


Thunder and lightning

by Charona



Series: Thunder and lightning [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Australia, Barbecue, Developing Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Firsts, Horses, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Rejection, Sad, Specks of fluff, Sunburn, Trust Issues, angsty, this is painful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charona/pseuds/Charona
Summary: Max is thunder and lightning, moulded by a stern father and his own unbending pride and stormy personality.Daniel is warmth and sunshine, loved and loving.





	1. Or: "just a young gun, with a quick fuse"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [extremesoft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremesoft/gifts).



> Hello folks!  
> I’m entering a new fandom with this and I wanted to write something challenging this time. The combination and development in the relationship between Max and Daniel is just too interesting to not mess with it a little :D  
> I’d like to dedicate this story to the gorgeous and wonderful extremesoft, who’s got such an incredible impact (hehe) on me and this fandom! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything, ystäväni! <3  
> The titles of the chapter are from Imagine Dragons – Thunder, a song which characterizes Max Verstappen perfectly well in my opinion^^
> 
> Attention please!  
> A fair warning ahead: This story mentions parental, mental and physical abuse. It’s not explicit, but if anyone of you has any problems with this topic, please don’t force yourself to keep on reading, alright? It's not explicit as mentioned, but coping with abusive parents and healing physical wounds is a ever-present thing here. That being sa(i)d: Stay safe and take care!
> 
> And now: Have fun with this quite angsty first chapter ;)

The first time Daniel meets Max he’s impressed by his determination, sincerity and concentration. Max radiates all the traits of an exceptional racing driver at the unbelievable young age of seventeen.  
The first time Max meets Daniel during the never ending rush of pre-season events he’s surprised by his positivity, humour and the attraction he seems to have on other people. Daniel doesn’t look like a racing driver at all talking to his opponents, joking around with Rosberg and radiating happiness. 

He still remembers the first thing Daniel ever said to him. It’s been a nonchalantly uttered “Here comes the hungry Dutch youth.” and something about that statement has left Max irritated – had the Aussie just complimented or insulted him? Max has shrugged it off for he had work to do, observe his opponents, make out weaknesses and think of ways to use those. 

They become teammates in 2016 after Max’s father has worked out a good deal with Red Bull highly recommending to not let his son’s talent go to waste in a Toro Rosso and pointing out Kvyat’s disillusioning if not disappointing results.  
The first thing Daniel’s said to his new teammate still makes Max blush at the very thought of it. He tripped over some wires for the monitoring laptops in the garage and gracelessly stumbled straight into Daniel’s arms. The Aussie caught him, stabilised him with a firm grip, flashed him this million-dollar-grin of his and said with a flirting undertone “Whoa, mate, no need to fall for me just yet.” Max went bright red with shame. 

In the following months Max forces down the surfacing admiration he feels for Daniel, eyes glued to their test results, consulting with his engineers about strategies. Keeping his head low and elbows out.  
It takes Max less than four races to come to the realisation that Daniel actually congratulates him honestly every time and without a single hint of falsehood or gritted teeth. After his first race, his first win Daniel hugged him so tightly he pressed all air out of Max’s lungs and whispered “Jeepers, mate, are you a born driver or what? Congratulations, Max, awesome!” in his wide accent and a voice that almost burst with joy and pride and happiness. Max felt a rush of warmth shooting through him and blamed that and the goosebumps on the sugar deficit and exhaustion.  
In reality Max was caught completely off guard – how could Daniel be so chill about losing to his new and young teammate? 

In some evenings Max spends at home with his parents, his father states that Daniel isn’t to be underestimated, ever, and Max nods dutifully at that. It’s his greatest and worst enemy they’re talking about and Max is fully aware of the fact that Daniel must have some kind of ace up his sleeve. So he keeps his head down and elbows out.  
But every time they stand in the press pen and Daniel illuminates the whole universe with his bright smile, every time they sit on the couch and Daniel sings from the bottom of his heart and every time Daniel cracks one of his highly inappropriate jokes and laughs wholeheartedly at it himself – Max can only stare. He can’t wrap his head around Daniel. His father tells him time and time again to be careful, to never let his guard down. He knows what it’s like to be a racing driver, to have your worst enemy so close to you. So Max trusts him because he’s a good son and he knows the consequences of not being a good son too well. So he keeps his distance to Daniel during every event and challenge Red Bull Racing puts in front of them and prepares for his first complete F1-season.  
During the late January weeks Daniel rushes through their training centre on his way to the torture chamber and its head torturer Michael – a.k.a. his beloved friend and physiotherapist. He stumbles past the locker room and his eyes are caught by Max who’s obviously just finished his weight training session himself. His young teammate has turned his back towards him and just put off his shirt. Sheer horror flashes across Daniel’s face at the sight of his young teammate’s skin. What should be the porcelain and clear and whole skin of an eighteen year old boy was scattered by countless fading green bruises on Max’s upper arm and his lower back. A trail of darker blue specks disappearing under the waistband of his loose shorts and a distorted pattern of small, deep and red cuts.  
Daniel freezes in place, a hand covering his mouth and he’s physically unable to tear his eyes off the specks that look suspiciously like purposely inflicted injuries. 

He doesn’t mention the incident, the injuries, to no one. The more time passes and the more often Max smiles at him and they joke around with each other the farther away slips the thought from Daniel’s mind. He’s had his fair share of sporting accidents himself, Jeepers. Nevertheless he’s not able to eradicate the nagging feeling inside his gut. 

The 2017 season for Max starts as an engineered disaster and five DNF’s.  
His father is furious with the mechanics, yells and rages. Max ducks under the screwdriver Jos Verstappen throws against the next wall and catches a glimpse at Daniel who stands still like struck by lightning in the other half of the garage and stares at Verstappen Senior from behind a mask of calmness and focus on his face. Sure, thinks Max, it’s not his problem of course with his car being totally fine and him being on top of his game with five podiums in a row.  
In reality Daniel fights back the urge to vomit his innards out as soon as he retreats to his driver’s room. The violence Max’s father just radiated, the expression of sheer terror in Max’s wide eyes. Images flash across Daniel’s inner eye, images of black bruises and encrusted cuts. He presses his eyes shut and feels tears pooling in their corners as he puts two and two together. 

Then Hungary happens. It all changes in Hungary after Max pushes Daniel off the track.  
The only thing Max remembers from the incident was Gianpiero cursing under his breath and the voice of his father in the back of his head. Good, that’s one rival gone, keep pushing.  
He actually sneered at the sight of Daniel waiting for him to come around the corner in the next lap and giving him the finger. Max carries on – elbows out.  
After the race he’s sucked into the swirl of flashing camera lights and recurrent questions and has no opportunity to look for Daniel at all. So it’s late in the evening before he sees Daniel in the crowded garage, the team sitting together and discussing the procedure for the upcoming summer break. Dark eyes meet blue ones in a swarm of people and Max instantly swallows. His mouth dries. He searches for his father and when he doesn’t see him anywhere nearby he makes his way over to Daniel.  
The Aussie leans against the wall right outside the garage and stares into the night sky.  
Max hands him the beer bottle he brought along and offers Daniel a smile the Aussie returns half-heartedly. Max’s thoughts race in his head, his heartbeat roars up to his throat and his fingers vibrate. He presses them against the cool beer bottle and takes another sip. They are standing shoulder to shoulder and Daniel has never felt farther away from him, fiddling with the bottle label. All of a sudden Max can’t stand the distance and the loneliness anymore.  
“I’m sorry.” he whispers hoarsely.  
“I know.” answers Daniel after a short nerve wrecking pause. “I get why you did it.”  
“I couldn’t avoi-“  
“Oh, please, spare me the bullshit.” Daniel could as well have punched Max in the face. His eyes are dangerous, nightly black and bitterly cold, but what hurts Max even more is the underlying tiredness and exhaustion Daniel doesn’t bother to hide anymore. He swallows again and the tangy taste of the beer changes into something bleak and disgusting.  
He looks Daniel in the eyes and the Aussie smirks humourlessly looking over Max’s shoulder and nodding in the direction of Max’s father who’s engrossed in conversation with Simon about the penalty Max received today.  
“Your father’s a legend.” Max takes a sip from his beer to wash down the taste of bile climbing up his throat.  
“Yeah, he is, I think.”  
“He’s a good mentor, I reckon.”  
“Yeah, he definitely is, yeah.”  
“Is he proud of you?”  
The questions come rapidly like fired from an automatic machine gun and Max fights the urge to duck from Daniel’s piercing gaze behind the garage wall.  
“Yes, he is, I think.” he repeats slowly, a deep frown appearing on his forehead. Daniel shakes his head, licks his lip and empties the bottle with one last huge gulp.  
“Alright then.” With that he turns around and leaves. Max stares after him in a mixture of irritation and strange longing. He darts back a glance at his father and meets his equally blue and stern eyes.  
Max swallows, looks at his hands and follows Daniel around the corner.  
The Aussie sits on a huge yellow toolbox and gazes up at the stars above the Budapest racetrack.  
Max licks his lips and sits down next to him.  
“To be honest I don’t have an explanation for pushing you today. I just said what I had to say to the media.”  
Max doesn’t expect an answer and Daniel doesn’t seem to intend to give one.  
They sit there in shared silence and share Max’s beer. At some point Daniel sighs and looks at Max.  
“I like you.” Max’s head snaps in Daniel’s direction. “I like you because you’re a good person. You’re likable and funny and honest and smart and friendly.” Max feels redness spreading over his cheeks and the warm glow on his skin makes him hide his face between his knees. Daniel laughs at that and nudges his shoulder.  
“I know you think that we can’t be friends and that I’m too great a rival to you for us being anything but opponents, but I don’t want to be your rival, Max.” Daniel lights up the entire paddock with the smile he grants Max with now. It’s not that bright and mischievous thousand-Watt-grin he displays whenever cameras are pointed at him. It’s a soft and mellow and rare smile.  
“I…” Daniel falters and Max realises that Daniel hadn’t planned his monologue any further than that as if he didn’t reckon to get the chance to do so. Daniel lowers his gaze to his hands visibly rummaging through his mind.  
“I want us to be friends, Max.” he states in a quiet voice. “Because I think, something good might come out of it, no matter what your dad believes.”  
“My dad can be quite difficult to be honest.” Max grins shyly at the simple words he uses and scratches his temple while listening to Daniel chuckle lightly.  
“Yeah, to put it simply. I don’t mean to disrespect your dad, Max, nothing’s further from my mind than that, seriously but you’re not your father.”  
“You mean, it’s a different generation of drivers now?” asks Max and Daniel shakes his head carefully.  
“No, Max, look at me.”  
Blue meets brown. Oceanic depths meet earthy warmth. Max feels like suffocating.  
“You’re not your father.” Max can’t possibly tear his eyes from Daniel’s. “You don’t have to be like him.”  
“My father went through fire to be where he is now. Literally. He did everything in his power to help me reach my goal, this goal.” Max points at the wire fence and the cold nightly black asphalt of the Hungarian race track. He suddenly feels the urge to defend his father at all costs and takes a deep breath to continue about all the deprivations and the stress his father endured for him, as Daniel interrupts him by simply stating “Giving things up and supporting you is his goddamn job as your parent, Max.”. With that he steals Max’s thunder completely and the Dutchman opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Daniel sighs, scratches the back of his head and sighs again.  
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s your dad. He loves you and you love him.”  
“Yeah, sure.”  
Max can’t even swallow anymore and simply stares into the endless night sky with billions of stars twinkling in immeasurable distances. It almost looks like some greater power carelessly spilled a bucket of white glitter onto a black blanket. How badly he longs for a blanket like this right now. 

When Daniel accidentally touches his side while reaching for the almost empty beer bottle Max flinches and bites back a hiss. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the Aussie and he closes his eyes as he puts two and two together. He frantically searches for a way to address the problem and finds none.  
Silence covers them again as they follow the trails of their thoughts. The air gets chillier and Daniel draws circles over the asphalt with his shoe. With every second that passes the more surreal seems the situation and together with the sound Max just made fades Daniel’s courage into the nothingness of the eastern European night. Daniel sniffles and puts the empty bottle aside.  
“I miss home. It’s spring now, but still warm enough to spend the day at the beach, having a Barbie in the evening and sitting around the campfire all night.” Daniel mutters at no particular time and sighs at the moon above them. Max leans back against a neat stack of tyres and looks at Daniel without answering.  
“You should visit me in Perth, mate.”  
Max understands it as a loose invitation, a casual comment which will be forgotten in a few minutes and never mentioned again – they know the way these things work. He simply nods.  
“No, I’m serious.” insists Daniel and listens to himself talk rather than consciously forming words. “Come with me to Australia next week. I’m flying out on Wednesday.” Daniel himself doesn’t really know what’s gotten into him and the bright blue of Max’s eyes reveals nothing but surprise.  
“Are you sure about that?” asks Max and scratches his temple again.  
“Absobloodylutely. You could use one or two sunbaths, Verstappen!”  
Daniel laughs and nudges Max’s shoulder while the younger one buries his face in his hands.  
When he looks up and throws a glance back to the garage he has to bite back a Dutch curse.  
“I promised my dad to spend the summer break practicing my reflexes and studying the rule book.” He swallows and manages a coy smile. “But I’ll talk to him about it. No worries.”  
Daniel feels the unbearable urge to hug Max, to embrace his young teammate and shield him from every evil in this world. He gathers all his diminishing self-discipline and simply pats Max’s arm carefully – quickly checking the skin for bruises before touching it ever so lightly.


	2. Or: "I was uptight, wanna let loose"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Max takes a step towards Daniel and the sun’s heat nearly burns him alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks! 
> 
> Wow, are you lot amazing, or what? :D Thanks for the incredible feedback from so many of you guys.   
> Let’s continue this journey, all right?
> 
> All warnings still apply for this chapter, of course.

Grace Ricciardo puts down the heavy green box and starts to hang out the laundry. If she hurries a little she might make it back to the kitchen in time to lower the oven’s heat in order to save the potatoes. Joe is a beautiful and loving husband but he’s an absolute disaster when it comes to cooking. She blows a cheeky dark curl out of her face and turns around to look for Daniel.   
Of course her son lays shirtless and with a well-thumbed book in his hands in the middle of the wide area they claim to be their garden – surrounded by sheep.   
The Ricciardos have realized years ago that sheep are perfect and easy to handle lawn mowers and therefore allowed their neighbour to pasture his herd on their property.   
Daniel’s always taken a great liking in the calm and fluffy animals.   
On the other hand, Grace reckons, there probably isn’t one single creature her son doesn’t like – or that doesn’t like her son, for that matter. Except sharks, that is. Somehow the thought of Daniel being the part of a herd makes her smile. He could have become an athlete in a sports team like rugby or cricket. On the other hand Daniel is too much an alpha wolf, a territorial and competitive loner, no matter what it may look like from the outside.   
She finishes her housework and makes a detour to ruffle her son’s hair.  
“You good, buddy?”   
Daniel munches on a fresh pineapple and shares generously with the sheep close to him.  
“Yeah, I’m good.”  
Grace nods and kisses the matt of black curls she inherited to her son and flashes him a bright grin from behind her sunglasses.   
Grace returns to the kitchen with a soft smile and a silent whistle. She always cherishes the summer break beyond measure, having Daniel around for three weeks straight and being able to mother him by every trick in the book. She checks her watch and looks out of the front window.   
It’s a pity that Max didn’t make it. 

Whenever Grace Ricciardo thinks of Max Verstappen she has to bite back a sigh. It’s probably inadequate to pity a young man who lives the dream – driving the fastest cars in the world, looked up to by children, paid an incredible amount of money. Still Grace can’t shake off her motherly instinct and stop herself from mirroring the pity and disappointment she saw in her son’s eyes when he told them Max was too busy over the summer break to visit them in good old Oz.   
Whenever she compares the Dutchman to her own son she always wonders how they don’t end up at each other’s throats regularly – being the complete opposites of one another. Daniel has always been her sun and pride and joy, while Max always seems to be aggressive and stern and broody. In a group of people Daniel is the entertainer, the centre of all spot light and attention. Probably it’s his looks, she thinks with a proud smirk, and his charisma and charm.   
Max radiates concentration and competitiveness and distance. He’s built a wall around him and Grace isn’t so naïve to believe that it’s out of fear – it’s rather cautiousness and experience. But what experiences has an eighteen year old boy possibly gone through that have made him shield himself from the whole world like that?   
She absentmindedly cuts unions and tomatoes while reminding herself, that there is one person that Max Verstappen has granted at least a glimpse over that wall of his: her own son.   
Daniel has told her and her alone about the bruises on Max’s body in a desperate and hoarse voice and Grace had just closed her eyes before immediately bringing up the idea to invite Max over.   
It actually is none of her business but it became exactly that when she realized how badly Daniel suffered from the weight of the situation. 

With a deep sigh she hangs up the wet kitchen towel. She has no right to interfere any further.   
A movement outside catches her eye and when she looks out the front window she nearly drops the wooden spoon. A taxi comes to a halt in front of the house and the man who stands on the sidewalk a second later, a blue suitcase by his side and an equally blue cap crowning his head, has a suspiciously high similarity to Max Verstappen.   
Grace stares with squinted eyes as the young Dutchman visibly sighs and curses and wipes his mouth as if unsure whether he should call the taxi back straight away.  
Grace acts before she consciously makes the decision to do so.   
“Max?” she asks as soon as she opens the front door. Max drops his hands to his sides and shrugs shyly.   
“Hello, Mrs Ricciardo. Please excuse me for just showing up unannounced.”  
“What are you talking about, Max? It’s great to see you and we talked about this, haven’t we? Please call me Grace, there is really no need for formalities.”  
With that she wraps her arms around the perplexed Dutchman and pulls him into a tight hug.   
“Gosh, Daniel will be so thrilled to see you. Why did you call a taxi and didn’t call us earlier instead? We could have picked you up from the airport. Taxis are so bloody expensive around here.”  
Max shrugs again, a little less tense this time, and scratches the back of his head through the cap. The immense optical resemblance between Daniel and his mother surprises him as always.   
“To be honest, I didn’t want to cause you guys any trouble. And my phone died anyway.”  
“Ah, hogwash! It would have been totally fine. Let me help you with these.”  
Max is almost too baffled to keep Daniel’s mother from carrying his suitcase and takes it from her with a polite smile.   
“I’ll prepare the guest room for you straight away. Daniel’s outside, just go straight through the living room and turn left on the veranda.”  
Max wants to say something along the lines of “Please don’t put yourself to any bother on my account, Grace.” but Daniel’s mother smiles so warmly at him and pats his arm that he’s lost for words.   
He’s left alone in the hallway and eyes his surroundings with blatant curiosity. The photographs on the wall show the whole family happily smiling, the kitchen radiates the dark and tasty smell of cooked potatoes and vegetables. The wooden floor is old and creaky and tells stories of rug races and spilled orange juice in the morning and happy memories.   
Max marvels at the open and welcoming atmosphere and makes his way through the living room that seems to serve as a library as well. Board games are piled up neatly on a shelf that sags from their weight.  
Max opens the creaking fly-screen door and is welcomed by the Australian morning heat – and the bleating of sheep. With an almost blessed smile on his face Max leans against the wooden panel of the balcony and stares at Daniel sleeping in the sun, surrounded by sheep and using one of the fluffy beasts as a pillow like a cowboy from an old western movie. 

Daniel cherishes the summer break beyond measure. Being at home, having his parents around him and being able to forget the engineered insanity for whole three weeks for it gives him the chance to re-charge his batteries. The last weeks have been tiring and exhausting.   
He shifts a bit as the sheep beneath him shakes off a fly.   
“I feel you, mate.” he mutters and closes his book. He throws back an unmotivated glance at the house – maybe searching for his father, who should come back from fishing at any moment, and sees… He shoots upright, making some sheep startle and flee in fear.   
“Max?” he huffs as he sees the pale Dutchman standing awkwardly on the white painted veranda of his parent’s house in Perth, Australia. Max lifts an arm and waves at him shyly, a small smile spreading on his lips.   
Daniel hauls himself to his feet and stumbles barefooted towards him. The late autumn sun may not have the power it used to have but it’s still strong enough to make him dizzy – at least that’s what Daniel tells himself.  
“What... How... why?”  
“Hello.” grins Max and is hit with the full physical strength of Daniel Ricciardo as the Aussie flings himself at him and embraces him tightly.   
“Jesus, it’s so good to see you, mate.”   
Max takes a trembling breath and curses himself – he should at least have changed his shirt for he can almost feel the smell of airport and traveling and taxi clinging to his clothes and his hair. Daniel on the other hand smells like grass and sun and dry wool. Max comes close to missing the usually ever-present smell of fuel.  
The fact Daniel isn’t wearing anything else but his wide low cargo shorts makes itself present when Max pats his naked back awkwardly. His skin radiates heat and the grass left imprints on his shoulder blades.   
Daniel makes no indications of ending the hug, but murmurs “I’m so glad you could make it.”  
“Yeah.” Max answers with a quiet chuckle. “It took me some persuasion, but I managed to re-schedule most of it. This week I’m all yours.”  
Daniel laughs at that and Max rather feels the vibration than hears it.   
“That sounds awesome. Come on.”  
And he blatantly takes Max’s hand and leads him downstairs. There is green grass as far as the eye can see, some trees carelessly scattered over the area and sheep hurled up in their cool shadows.   
Max takes off his sunglasses to simply take in the true picture of where Daniel grew up – Daniel who slumps down on his back again and squints up at him.   
“So this is where you grew up?” Max whistles in acknowledgment. “Not bad.”  
Daniel chuckles and clicks his tongue.   
“Yeah, it’s alright.”  
Max sits down next to him and is curiously eyed by a few sheep. Then he takes off his cap and his shoes, digs his toes into the green grass.   
“This is nice.” He says and gets a bright grin that competes with the sun above them effortlessly.   
“How come that you are here, Max?”  
“I thought about what you said in Hungary.”   
Max absentmindedly fiddles with some blades of grass.   
“That you liked me and all that. The thing is, I like that you like me and I wanted to be here for the summer. So I talked to my father and pointed out that it is my career and my life. I’m in charge of it.”   
He has prepared his speech during the long-haul flight across the Pacific Ocean and still doesn’t stick to it. This day is too beautiful to ruin it with anything negative.   
Daniel nudges his shoulder.  
“I’m really glad you could make it.”   
He said that before but now Max can see it in his eyes as well. He feels his worries and negativity evaporate, condensate like the last morning dew from the grass beneath his feet.   
“It’s the first time in years that I’m barefoot.” He states with a surprised undertone.   
Daniel shakes his head and clicks his tongue again.   
Something about his posture and looks makes Max think how perfectly Daniel fits in this place. Matt black curls getting ruffled by a constant oceanic breeze, tanned and clean skin over compact and at the same time lean muscles and that ever-present soft smirk on his full lips surrounded by ebony scruff. Max catches himself staring and swallows.   
“I’ve got a plan.” announces Daniel.  
“Oh, Jesus, that can’t be good.”  
“Shut up. Do you trust me?”   
Behind the mischievous glint in Daniel’s ebony eyes there is an honest sincerity that makes Max nod.  
“Good, come on then.” 

Daniel drives barefooted. That’s the first thing Max realises once they sit in Joe Ricciardo’s Jeep and drive down a completely empty and dusty road.   
He drives barefooted, one knee propped up against the door and a hand constantly hanging outside the window. He’s turned his base cap around and cheeky curls stick out from underneath it.   
“You’re really not going to tell me, where we’re heading to?”   
“Absolutely not. It’s a surprise.”   
“It’s not the beach is it?” asks Max nevertheless and the worry that seeps through every syllable makes Daniel’s mouth go dry. Images of violated and hurt skin rush through his mind and he grips the steering wheel tighter than necessary.   
“No, it’ almost too cold for that by that. We’re visiting someone.”  
Max cocks his head.   
“A relative of yours?”   
The grin on Daniel’s face grows almost perversely wide.  
“Kind of.”  
They talk a lot during the two hour drive. Max is highly interested in the country he’s visiting and they talk about everything but racing and their jobs. Daniel tells Max everything he knows about his hometown, his family and Australia.   
“Have you ever cuddled a koala?” Max asky wide eyed and with an overly excited grin on his lips. Daniel shoots him a shocked look.  
“Mate, these animals are fucking deadly. Honestly, they will claw your eyes out and crawl through your skull if the person behind you holds a single eucalyptus leaf.”   
“But they look so fluffy.”   
Daniel takes a deep breath, catches Max’s glance and they both squeak “Oh my god, it’s so fluffy!” simultaneously at the top of their lungs before erupting into hearty laughter together.   
Finally Daniel turns right and they enter a narrow driveway lined by old oak trees.   
“Where are we here?”  
“Jeepers, patience really isn’t your strong suit, is it?” He nudges Max’s shoulder. “You’ll see, mate.”

In the distance appears a huge farm building with a smaller barn and stable.   
“Welcome to my aunt’s. My sister and I spent every summer on this farm before I went to Europe. I learnt how to swim, to ride a bike and to drive a tractor here.”  
The dreamy expression on Daniel’s face sends a rush of warmth through Max’s body.   
Daniel parks as badly as always in the middle of the square courtyard and they take a stroll to the stables.   
“Wait here.” orders Daniel and disappears behind the wooden gate. The clatter of hoofs indicates his comeback and Daniel returns with a huge ginger horse at his side.   
Max instantly takes a step backwards while Daniel has one hand buried in the horse’s mane.   
“May I introduce to you Ol’ Nanny. We grew up together and she kind of raised me. I thought after my parents and my sister she’s the next in line you should meet.”  
“Awesome.” mutters Max and takes another step back. Daniel cocks his head.  
“No need to be nervous, she’s really tame.”   
Max stares at the horse and he can’t shake the impression it stares right back at him – through his skin and bones to his very soul. He shakes his head rapidly.   
“That’s scary.”  
“SHE’s just a horse and old and chill, believe me.”  
“Horses are big and strong and unpredictable.”  
“This is one horsepower – well, actually, it is a bit more than that, but anyway you drive a car with 700 times the horsepower.”  
“But…”  
“And don’t try to tell me Old Nanny here is more unpredictable than the RB13. She has better grip.”  
“It has teeth!” stutters Max and looks at the animal in total bewilderment and Daniel rolls his eyes.   
With that he takes Max’s hand and places it on the warm fur over the horse’s shoulder blade. Max feels the strong muscles and warmth and life radiating through wide veins and heavy bones. He smiles at the sensation of a deep and slow heartbeat that makes him feel like a hummingbird in comparison. The mare snorts in what sounds like contentment with a hint of impatience as if to say “fucking finally”. Max quickly pulls back his hand.   
“She growled at me!”   
“You, my friend, are a gigantic chicken.”  
Max takes that as a challenge and slowly comes closer again. He lets the mare smell his hand and then touches her nose carefully. He shoots Daniel a bright grin.  
“Wow, that’s really soft.”  
Daniel observes Max as the Dutchman pats the old horse with increasing courage and fondness.  
“What do you think? Shall we take the old lady for a walk?”  
Max nods excitedly and although he still has a certain amount of respect, he strolls alongside the horse down a dusty path towards wide fields. 

They come across some apple trees and Daniel gestures Max to wait, before jumping on the horse’s back like he’s done it a thousand times and picks some apples. He takes a huge bite from the first one and reaches over the horses neck to hand Nanny the other half.  
“There you go, girl, for your effort.”  
Max watches in awe and with a carefree and amused lopsided smile on his face.   
Daniel hops down again and they sit down on the grass, Daniel’s loot piled up between them.   
They silently eat the apples.   
“You know what they say about gingers, right?” Max states with a cheeky grin and feeds the horse like Daniel has shown him.   
“Did you just insult my horse?!”  
They laugh at that and Max feeds the mare another piece of apple from his open palm. Daniel watches him in awe and grins widely. Max doesn’t have to answer and takes a look around the hills and fields and the shimmering horizon that indicates the near ocean. A soft breeze carries the smell of dry grass, dust and horses to them.

“Honestly, mate, how could you ever leave this place?”  
Daniel shrugs and licks sweet apple juice from his finger.   
“I never wanted to. Of course I wanted to try it in Europe and become a F1 driver more than anything else, but leaving all this was so fucking hard.” He pulls at a blade of grass and twirls it between his fingers. “I love my job so much and I could never do anything else, I know that, but I miss home so much when I’m too long gone. I’ll always return to this spot, these trees and hills. This is my home, but it’s not about a location. I know I talk about Australia and Perth a lot and look at me, I’m the typical Aussie bloke, but everywhere can be my home as long as I’ve got the right people with me.”  
“Your parents.” Interprets Max aloud and swallows.   
“Yes, them, Michelle, my best friends.” Daniel draws a sharp intake of breath and pats Nanny’s chest.   
“And you.”   
Max’s head snaps in Daniel’s direction and the Aussie shrugs with a slightly embarrassed smile.   
“How about you, Max? You moved to Monaco this year, didn’t you?”  
Max bites his lip and has no clue what to say. The apartment in Monaco is nice. His mom visits him sometimes, mostly to do his laundry and clean up whenever he’s too busy or too lazy to do it himself. He hasn’t seen Victoria in weeks because she’s so occupied with studying for her upcoming exams. And his father…

Nanny snorts and blows her warm breath down his neck as if giving him a reassuring push. Max swallows dryly.  
“If home is where the heart is, why do I feel so fucking heartless?”  
Max closes his eyes. He’s said that without thinking about it once and Daniel’s eyes widen at the Parkway Drive lyrics. Then his expression changes completely as if the sun erupted in one massive, destructive explosion of angry white heat inside Daniel’s eyes and he swallows loudly behind gritted teeth.  
Max smirks humourlessly and rubs his temple, weakly waves off the thought as well as the statement.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”  
And then Daniel tears down the wall Max has built around him years and years ago and drags him forcefully into the blinding heat of his black eyes – abandons Max without shelter and burns his flesh until there is nothing left but his pale white bones and his quivering soul.   
“I’ve seen them. I’ve seen the bruises, Max.”


	3. Or: "I was dreaming of bigger things"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one about walks, walls and wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks!
> 
> Thanks again for all your brilliant and motivating comments! (And sorry for the cliff hanger^^) 
> 
> Let’s keep going, alright?  
> Again, all warnings apply to this chapter as well and probably even a bit more, so please take care of yourselves and stay safe, you all!
> 
> Have fun with this new chapter and tell me what you thinks about it.

Max falls.  
He falls through clouds and water and fire.  
There is no safety net, no barrier made of tyres to absorb the collision. Max can’t breathe and is trapped by Daniel’s black gaze that pierces straight through his very bones and into the depth of his soul, rummaging through his deepest best-hid secrets and pulls them to the hot light that is the bright, sun-drenched Australian field.  
“You… what?” he manages to press out of his burning and burnt lungs. Daniel keeps staring at him with a blackness in his eyes that swallows Max whole.  
“I’ve seen you by accident in the locker room in January.”  
“You watched me changing clothes?”  
Max hisses through gritted teeth. He knows his way – keep your head down and elbows out.  
“It was an accident, Max, I didn’t do it on purpose. But these bruises and the cuts, they look really bad, mate. Did your father have something to do with it?”  
Max goes completely numb. Daniel’s eyes spray hate and resentment and coldness when he asks the last question. Max can only stare at Daniel in utter shock, stripped of all words and feelings.  
“Does your father beat you, Max?”  
With these words vibrating perilously between them the strength returns to Max’s body. He struggles to get to his feet wide eyed and numb and turns around to head back to the farm again, away from the burning heat in Daniel’s eyes. His fingers tremble and he can’t breathe. Unspeakable anger boils up in him and he spins around on his heels.  
“It’s none of your fucking business, mate!” Max rages, emphasises the last word. His voice crashes down on Daniel like lightning. “Fuck you!”  
Daniel gets to his feet as well and takes a step towards Max. But Max stumbles backwards, treasonous tears swimming in the corners of his eyes.  
“Jesus, Max, don’t run away from me!”  
“Tell me honestly, is this some kind of joke to you, Daniel?! Showing me your perfect life, your perfect family, just to make me feel even worse?! I’m in pieces already and you’ve got nothing better to do than rubbing your perfect everything right in my face! Do you have that little respect for me? Was that your goal with all this shit?! Proofing how miserable my fucking life is compared to yours?! Because congratulations, you win. My life sucks despite all the glory and money and everything that comes with it!”  
Max isn’t able to hold his voice steady any longer, it creaks and falters and comes to a complete halt.  
Daniel sighs heavily and takes one step in Max’s direction, his hand outstretched – and Max ducks in sheer panic.  
Daniel has to bite back a sob when he sees Max flinching as if he expects a punch to follow. The sight of that breaks Daniel’s heart into a myriad pieces and leaves it shattered between sweet apples and fresh grass. He did this to him, he frightened Max.

“Max, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown that at you the way I did. I’m so truly sorry. And I didn’t mean to show off anything, please, you have to believe me.” Daniel can’t shake the feeling of how pathetic and pleading he sounds. “I wanted to talk to you about this. Somewhere save, where you can relax and I don’t know, forget about all that for a moment, alright? I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, let’s talk about it.”  
Max swallows salty tears and the taste of ash.  
“You have no right to judge me! No right whatsoever.” Max spits with a voice that trembles like thunder, retreating farther from Daniel’s black eyes, which display nothing but pity and care and regret.  
Daniel lifts his arms in an innocent, open and defending movement, his eyes not burning with heat anymore, but radiating warmth and safety. Max knows he could dive into these arms, let Daniel hold him and mend him – or whatever’s even left to mend at all.  
But there is a wall between them, concrete bricks and cold clay, built of everything that looms inside Max’s eyes and his memories and itches under his skin. Max wants to tear it all down, brick by brick, to burn everything to ashes and scatter every last particle in the wind. He clenches is fists and ruffles his hair and lets out a gut wrenching “Fuck!” screamed in agony and fear and loss. It’s like a monstrous force of nature finding an outlet, a bitter cold thunderstruck cutting through the embracing heat and rumbles over the field.

And Daniel watches.  
Daniel watches as Max falls apart in front of him. He is a more or less innocent and powerless bystander to Max’s downfall and the pain gets beyond bearable now.  
He almost runs towards Max and catches him in something that could have been a hug, if Max didn’t bend his head that far down that his forehead more or less collides with Daniel’s lower chest. So Daniel sinks to his knees and steadies Max. Max who breaks down in his arms with one silent but oh so heart breaking sob. Daniel stays completely silent, just holds Max and tries to put him back together by caressing his arms and shoulders – pressing him against his chest in the attempt to fill him with life and warmth again. Despite the by now awful Australian afternoon heat Max’s skin is as cold as ice. He clenches a trembling fist into Daniel’s shirt and clings to him like a drowning man.

Daniel searches for something to say, arranges and rearranges his thoughts and finds neither a beginning nor an end. He’s never been in a situation like that, ever. Michelle once had a cheating boyfriend and told her big brother about it, sobbing and crying. Daniel dried his sister’s tears by punching the asshole in the face and breaking his nose. That was the last time someone had a breakdown on him. This is something entirely else. He manages a shaky intake of breath.  
“Max, I’m so sorry, I brought it up. You don’t have to say anything, alright? No need to defend yourself or any explanations. Is it okay with you, if I hold you while longer? Would that help?”  
He knows he might be too over-protective right now but the fear of saying something wrong, of frightening or worse hurting Max clings to every word he mutters carefully into Max’s hair. Max nods and they stay silent.  
Daniel turns his head and looks at Nanny. Her big black eyes are curious and cautious and when Daniel offers her a smile the mare comes closer and nibbles at Daniel’s curls as if patting his back.  
The silence is only interrupted by Max’s slowly steadying breathes and Nanny’s content snorts.  
“He hasn’t always been like that.”  
Max startles Daniel a little with the sudden break of silence, but Daniel tries to hide it and listens carefully to Max’s heavy and hoarse words.  
“My dad is stern. He’s always been that way and it never bothered me. Many children have strict parents. Mine moulded me into exactly what he wanted – a younger version of himself, an arrogant, coldblooded and aggressive winner.”  
Max shifts and lifts his head, making room for himself to breathe and think. The words simply fall out of his mouth without him having any say in it. He hears the distant echo of his father’s voice in the back of his head, telling him to stop, ordering him to keep his mouth shut and commanding him to reveal nothing that Ricciardo will use against him. He shoves it back with a shaking breath.  
“I never really had a mother. Dad kicked her out before they even agreed on getting a divorce and was left alone with two little kids. He had a couple of girlfriends, but that’s not the same, I guess. I don’t really know what it’s like to have a mother that tucks you in at night or prepares lunch or helps you with your homework. My father didn’t do any of this, he always said it’s a woman’s work.”  
He chuckles lightly at that and Daniel nudges his shoulder. The distant echo of Jos Verstappen’s dark and demanding voice is drowned out by Daniel’s warm expression.  
“He took me karting before I could even ride a bike or walk properly for that matter. He taught me everything and without him I would be nothing, but he was cruel. He would hit me through the helmet with full force when I wasn’t fast enough or not good enough, when I was tired and wanted to go home.”  
Daniel bites his tongue in order to keep any comments to himself. He holds his clenched fist behind his back.  
“And he would get angry at other things more often. My grades at school or my weight or music taste. Most of the time he would just drag me outside and lock me into the garage to work on the kart. One night after a race he burst into my room.”  
Max has to take a deep breath and wipes his nose before smiling at Daniel with an unbearable sad smile.  
“He was drunk and yelled at me why I behaved like a fucking pussy. I just hung out with my sister’s friends that day instead of working on the kart. He whipped me with his belt. I was eleven.”  
Daniel stares at Max. He simply stares, not capable of doing anything else. His head is filled with white noise and Max’s soft and raspy voice.  
“On one of my last races before I entered F3 I ended up being third and he threw the trophy at me, raging how I could be proud of a third place.”  
Max touches his temple and Daniel’s eyes widen at the sight of a small scar next to Max’s right eye.  
Max smiles at him shyly and nods, so Daniel lifts a hand and lets it trace over the uneven mark.  
“Jesus.” He murmurs over the rush of blood in his ears.  
“Yeah, he brought me to the hospital because it bled so severely. He was really sorry, but it kept on happening. At times he really frightened me, especially when he was drunk and he is drunk a lot. I never was a kid, I guess.”  
That statement makes Daniel huff in pain and agreement and suppressed anger.  
“But seeing him proud and hugging me and congratulating me in my first Formula-season…”  
An almost sacred expression flashes across Max’s face and Daniel believes he’s never seen anything more beautiful – Max reminiscing happy memories and smiling that soft smile of his.  
“It made it okay. I know, I shouldn’t say this, but it’s the truth. No matter how crazy that sounds. I wanted to make him proud.”  
Daniel doesn’t miss the past tense Max used and isn’t sure whether he did it on purpose or because he simply lacked the eloquence.  
“I don’t think it’s crazy. I guess you love him and wanting someone you love to recognize and love you is back only human.” states Daniel and leans back against the tree, inviting Max into another hug that ends up to be a more or less comfortable position for them to lay near each other and still keep eye contact.  
“Max, you’re so brave for telling me all this.”  
“Yeah, you’re another difficult variable in the equation that is my relationship with my father.”  
Daniel roars in a dark laughter at that.  
“Wow, Verstappen, you really improved your English.”  
Max lets his head sink back to Daniel’s shoulder after rolling his eyes at him. His chest is so much lighter now, the can being opened and pressure released.  
“My father taught me to hate and mistrust everyone on the track, every journalist who spreads lies about our family, every low mechanic and especially the other drivers. Of course they are the worst. I met a few guys over the years that could have been my friends in different dimension, a different version of my life.”  
Max fumbles with a dry leaf from the apple tree in their backs.  
“It wasn’t that big a problem, really, because most our colleagues share that mentality. Elbows out and bulldozing your way through the field and all that shit. Except you.”  
“Me?” Daniel stares at Max blankly and Max feels his cheeks redden with something that’s neither anger nor an aftereffect of his breakdown. The Dutchman sorts out his thoughts and licks his lips. Daniel’s focus shifts to those lips and he swallows in an attempt to slow down his rapid heartbeat.  
“Yeah, you. You smile so much. You are so friendly and warm and open and funny. It’s so hard to compete with you not just because you are an awesome driver but also because you are so likable.”  
Heat creeps up Daniel’s cheeks and he turns his face towards the sun to hide it. He pulls Max closer as an answer and now they are literally cuddling under an old apple tree in the scorching Australian afternoon sun.  
He’s lost for words until he remembers what Max’s said earlier.  
“What does that have to do with your father?”  
A part of him regrets bringing up Jos Verstappen again but his curiosity is growing too big to ignore it.  
“I can’t hate you and what you saw in January is the result of me telling my father exactly that.”  
Daniel stiffens underneath him and Max bites his lip again. He feels the scattered bricks of the wall vibrate as if they were lifted by an imagined hand and put back to place.  
“What?!”  
“Yeah. He totally snapped when I told him I didn’t want to beat you in any way but racing on track – no mind games, no illegal and dangerous moves. I would never put you in danger, Daniel.”  
“So you’re putting yourself in danger instead?”  
Daniel can’t wrap his head around Max.  
“What am I supposed to do?”  
“I’d smash his face in.”  
“Believe me, I tried.”  
A sad expression flashes across Max’s face and it gets too much for Daniel to handle. He detangles himself from Max’s touch and he gets to his feet, wanders back and forth in thought.

Ideas and emotions rush through his mind in never ending circles. He wants to help Max so badly and has no clue how. Jeepers, he doesn’t even know how to look at him right now. Max completely broke down in front of him and cried in front of him and opened up to him and Daniel doesn’t know how to handle all that honesty and confessions suddenly replacing distance and resentment.  
If it were up to Daniel he’d take the next flight to Holland, find Jos Verstappen and beat the shit out him for treating his Max like that, his own fucking son. He clenches his fists and Max follows him with his eyes, watches the long shadow Daniel casts over him every time he blocks the sun. Daniel could report him to the police. But a long and exhausting trial that causes so much public interest can’t possibly be what Max wants and needs now. And that’s Daniel’s uppermost interest right now – to make Max feel save and happy.  
Daniel pulls at his hair, straightens the curls just to ruffle them again and leave them in a total adorable mess. 

Suddenly Max opens his mouth and although his words are barely more than a whisper they hit Daniel with the destructive impact of an atomic ricochet.  
“You don’t take me for a weak idiot, do you?”  
Daniel snaps back to Max, kneels before him and takes his face in both hands. They’ve shared their fair share of touches and hugs and handshakes by now, but this is different. Max is caught by the chocolatey, earthy darkness of Daniel’s eyes.  
“Don’t you ever dare to think something like that! You’re neither weak nor stupid for growing up with such a father. I’m just so fucking pissed right now.” Daniel wipes over the dry tear streaks on Max’s cheek and when Max closes his eyes Daniel has to fight back the urge to kiss him more fiercely than he ever had to fight against any other sensation in his life. “I wish, I could help you, Max.”  
“You can, come here.”  
Daniel dissolved the moment and the touch, takes his former seat again and follows the gaze of Max’s bright blue eyes to the bright blue sky.  
The seriousness evaporates with increasing heat. Nanny wanders off to another apple tree and lays down underneath it, watching the two humans with dark and awake eyes. 

“Tell me a story.” pleads Max and closes his eyes. “Anything. Let’s just talk about something else, please. What can else can you tell me about this country? What kind of fables and myths are told in Australia? Do you guys believe in magical kangaroos ridden by half naked knights?”  
A story about heroes then, not unlike yourself, thinks Daniel and starts to blabber about Australian folklore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note:  
> Jos Verstappen hitting Max’s helmet with full force when he wasn’t good enough at karting as a kid actually happened. Max mentioned it in interviews for German newspapers twice. So that one is unfortunately true..


	4. Or: “and wanna leave my own life behind”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one about fear, hope and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks!  
> Thanks again from the bottom of my heart for all your brilliant, uplifting and inspiring comments! It really means a lot, thank you!  
> This time it’s going to be a ride! Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen, shit’s gonna go down.   
> All warnings still apply of course,   
> PLUS another serious warning to be added:   
> This chapter deals with homophobia and physical violence. Please, folks, don’t push yourselves and stay in your comfort-zone.   
> Other than that, have fun with this mess of a chapter!  
> Take care and tell me how you like it :D

The door falls shut behind Daniel and the next thing Max feels, are strong arms embracing him from behind.   
“Hey, you.” The words softly spoken against his earlobe send warm shivers down his spine.   
He turns around in Daniel’s arms and drowns in his warm ebony eyes that wander over his face, caressing his skin, as well as his hands find their way to Max’s waist.  
“Hey, yourself.” He whispers leaning into the touch.  
“God, these post-race meetings are so boring. I couldn’t wait for it to end.”  
Max’s chuckle is drowned out by soft lips meeting his own. It’s a light pressure, warm and loving and Max instantly sighs into the kiss, tightening his grip in Daniel’s white overall.  
“I couldn’t wait to finally do this.”   
Daniel grins and traces his tongue over Max’s lips and a hot shiver runs down his spine straight into his crotch. He runs his fingers through Daniel’s damp curls and takes in the taste of champagne, sweat, fuel and Daniel – the sun and warmth and happiness. His hands fly over the lean and strong back and arms and sides on the desperate search for skin and more warmth and more Daniel.  
“And this.”  
Max is pressed against the wall by Daniel’s body weight and feels the bulge beneath the layers of clothes as Daniel presses against him, pinning him against the cold wall of his driver’s room.   
“You see, what you do to me?”   
Daniel takes Max’s hand, intertwines their fingers and presses them over his head against the wall. Max moans into the kiss as Daniel scrapes his earlobe with his teeth, causing heat to shoot straight through Max. He knows he could easily detangle his hands, but Daniel his too hot in his post-race cocksure attitude, their shared cocksure post-race attitude. A perfect weekend, a double win for Red Bull, place one and place two and Max doesn’t even care in which order.   
Daniel traces his tongue along Max’s jaw, sets small loving bites around his neck and down to his collarbone. Max tilts his head back and buries his hand in Daniel’s dark curls, searching for a steady anchor. Daniel grinds against him, feeling Max’s hardening cock against his waist. Pride shoots through him – hard for him, because of him.  
“God, you’re so gorgeous. I waited so long to finally be alone with you.”   
The bites grow to softer kisses, scattered all over Max’s chest and stomach, lifting his shirt up and out of the way as quickly as possible. At the same time Daniel increases the pressure on Max’s cock and makes him gasp.   
“It’s so annoying, all that blabber about us being our greatest competitors. Why we don’t end up at each other’s throats.” Hot breath meets wet skin when Daniel marvels at the mark he left on Max’s neck. His grin is perversely wide and wolf-like. “They’d be gobsmacked, if they knew just how often we actually are at each other’s throats.”  
“Quit talking.” grunts Max as he finally has enough, a dirty grin displaying his reddened lips. He catches Daniel in a firm grip, spins them around and drowns out Daniel’s dark and raspy laughter with a fiery kiss. He almost claws his way through the overall, pulling it over Daniel’s head with a confident, fluent movement. Finally skin. Max licks over Daniel’s sternum, takes in the smell of salty sweat and pearly champagne and defiantly smirking Daniel, whose grin fades into a low moan when Max bites his nipple.   
“Jerk.” He hisses, but love and lust cloud the insult until it doesn’t sting anymore.   
Daniel takes off Max’s shirt and throws it unceremoniously to the far corner of the room.   
They laugh at their rawness, their heated tempers and happiness that drowns out all that isn’t them, their kisses and shared breaths.   
“Shit, come here.” Daniel’s voice is nothing more than a hoarse pleading sigh and Max meets him in the middle of the room, taking his face in his hands tenderly first and then catching his lips longingly. 

Suddenly the door flies open and a large shadow casts darkness over them, before they are forcefully torn apart.  
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” followed by a Dutch curse rumbles through the small room and Max can’t move anymore. The first punch hits his solar plexus and sends him on one knee, the second finds his cheekbone and he hears the bone crack rather than feeling the pain shooting through his body. All air is violently pressed out of his lungs and he hears Daniel gasp in shock.   
His mouth forms a silent “Dad” as he looks up at his father towering above him fuming with untamed wrath and pure hatred.   
“How dare you to reject my command?! I didn’t raise a fucking faggot!”  
The words are more painful than the physical assault could ever be. They are blades thrust into his heart and twisted with the piercing fury in Jos Verstappen’s cobalt blue eyes. The smell of beer and liquor accompanies them.   
The next kick hits his ribs and Max screams in agony.  
“Jesus, stop it!”, Daniel pulls at Jos’s arm and Max watches in sheer horror as his father snaps back his elbow and Daniel stumbles backwards, dark blood blooming on his lower lip and the expression of utter shock spreading across his face. Max stares at the blood on Daniel’s splinted lips, the lips he just caressed with his own. His favourite lips in the world that can say the most beautiful words from a over-enthusiastic “Enchanté!” to a silently whispered “I love you”. Now there’s blood dripping from them. Jos points a finger at Daniel and lets another punch follow that hits Daniels jaw and makes him stumble against the wall.   
“You filthy little faggot poisoned my son! You seduced him, didn’t you, you shitdick wanker! You made him suck your cock! Like a good little rent boy!”  
Indescribable hatred and disgust seep through every heavily accented word.  
“You told him, he likes it, right? Being a fucking cock sucking pussy.”  
Max squints his eyes shut, tears and blood mixing on his cheeks.   
“Please, dad. Please leave him alone, please.” he whispers with a quivering voice, forehead pressed against the cold floor. He tries to focus on his surroundings, but blackness keeps spreading in his field of vision.   
“Max, help me!” begs Daniel before another punch sends him to the floor. A dry sob escapes Max’s lungs as he stretches out a hand in Daniel’s direction. Daniel who tries to defend himself, to cover at least his head and winces in pain.  
“Max, help me!”  
“Please, Dad, not Daniel. Don’t hurt him, please.”   
“Max, please, help me, make him stop!”  
He hears Daniel huffing in pain as his father pesters Daniel with punches and insults.   
“Please, Dad. Punish me, take me, but leave Daniel alone, please, Dad. Dad, please.”  
“Max!”  
“Daniel!”

 

Suddenly Max feels himself being lifted off the cold floor and pressed against a warm and tender solidity.   
“Sh, Max, wake up. Hey, Max, it’s alright, wake up.”  
And Max clings to Daniel with a pained and all-consuming frantic sob.   
Daniel pulls Max closer with a soothing sound and holds him and rocks him back and forth.  
“Sh, it’s alright, it was just a nightmare, you’re alright. Everything is fine.”  
It was more than just a nightmare and nothing is fine and Daniel has no idea what to do – as often in the last couple of days, Max’s spent in Oz. He heard Max groan and toss and turn in his bed on his way to the bathroom. He couldn’t ignore it. It took him four attempts to finally wake Max up, he kept murmuring in Dutch and let out a couple of desperate huffs and moans. The second Max opened his eyes and stared into dark nothingness, imprints of his nightmare tattooed into his innards Daniel pulled him into a tight embrace.   
He presses his cheek against Max’s damp hair and draws soothing circles over his soaking wet shirt.   
Pale moonlight seeps through the half-closed curtains and draws calmly swaying patterns onto the ceiling.   
Max’s breathing grows calmer and steadier after a while. He finally detaches himself from Daniel and wipes his face.  
“Jesus, Daniel, I’m so sorry.”  
“What are you talking about? No need to be sorry.”   
Max swallows drily. Daniel licks his lips and his eyes are almost pitch black in the darkness of the guest room.   
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks cautiously and scans Max’s face. Max only shrugs and he seems so small and uncertain and lost that it breaks Daniel’s heart. This version of Max in front of him now has almost no resemblance with the racing driver, the winner, the Dutch wonder boy the media is slowly getting used to.   
Max takes a quivering intake of breath and wipes his eyes again. Images of his nightmare still linger in his field of vision and he has to tear his eyes away from Daniel’s intact and soft lips. The arousal he had felt a few moments ago, the atmosphere of lust and closeness vanishes into the cool air of a late Australian night.   
“He hit me.” He manages to murmur. “He just entered the room and hit me.”   
It’s not the whole truth, but Max can’t possibly tell Daniel about the first half of his dream. Not ever. The last three days have rummaged through Max’s core, surfaced his innermost feelings and twirled them in one monstrous whirlwind until Max was left irritated, rattled and rumpled. Feeling Daniel so close to him, pressed against his upper body and still not half as close as in his dreams, as he wants him to be, makes him swallow drily.   
“Shit, I’m such a mess. I’m so sorry.”  
“Don’t be, it’s alright. Is there anything I can do for you? Get you a glass of water?”  
Max sends a coy smile in Daniel’s direction, fidgeting with the duvet.   
“A glass of water would be great, yeah.”  
“Be right back.”  
With that Daniel hurries out of the room. He gets to the kitchen and pours the drink with shaking hands and the drumming of his own heartbeat resounding in his ears. He knows that Max didn’t tell him everything and he’s okay with that. It happened a few times in the last days, the young Dutchman locking him out and barring his thoughts and emotions. It’s a constant floatation between closeness and caring and resentment and caution, like acrobats performing a tightrope walk over an all-consuming gnawing rift, ready to swallow them whole. So Daniel doesn’t push and Max doesn’t try. But the nightmare might change things. 

When he comes back to the guest room he freezes in the door frame. Max just took off his soaking shirt and the pale moon illuminates his skin – and the dark bruises and cuts and burns.   
Daniel almost drops the glass and has to bite back a sob. He remembers January, he remembers that he was responsible for the wounds back then. And he remembers the hurt in Max’s eyes, the betrayal he radiated when he told him, that he’d watched him change his clothes. And Daniel swears, he’ll never be responsible for any of it. Never again.   
“Max.” he says and the Dutchman doesn’t flinch, doesn’t turn around and doesn’t show any kind of reaction.   
“Max.” whispers Daniel again and curses the short name. Three letters is way too short to capture all that Max is, all that Max is to Daniel.   
Daniel wants to close the distance between them, hug Max and mend him, but he’s rooted to his spot. Max turns around slowly and spreads his arms in a disarming, desperate gesture as if to say “Here I am, that’s me and I’m sorry it’s that big a disappointment.”   
The bruises on his back are worse, but his left ribcage is slightly swollen and still green and purple, his chest is dotted with seven bulging round red marks and thin and varying scars draw a disturbing pattern around his lower stomach and waist.   
Daniel sets the glass aside and comes closer, shaking his head. He wants to say something. I’m sorry. You’re beautiful. Fuck. I love you. I’m so sorry. Fuck, I love you so much. 

Max’s eyes fill with tears and he shakes his head rapidly. His whole body is shaking and he can’t breathe. No one has ever seen him like that, not his coach, not his sister, only Daniel. He always comes back to Daniel. Daniel, who closes their distance and hugs Max tightly.   
And Max falls apart – again. But it’s less violent this time, a tender slipping into another state of mind. Shaking limbs and burning eyes. He buries his face in Daniel’s neck, takes in the smell of aftershave, beach, sun and warmth. He basks in his embrace and the second he closes his eyes and leans into Daniel, he suddenly feels his lungs widen again in a liberating intake of breath and air and Daniel.   
Daniel loosens his grip a little and his hands find their way into Max’s damp hair. The next thing he feels are Daniel’s slightly chapped lips on his forehead. Max’s breathing hitches. But there are the lips again, on his temple this time. Max eyes fall shut and all he feels are Daniel’s lips and his breath and his tears dropping into his hair. Max clings to his back and bites his lip. He fights back tears and this time he might actually win.  
“You have no idea, how broken I really am.”  
Daniel tries to be strong, he really tries to keep his self-composure but fails so miserably.   
“I wish I could travel through time. I wish I could turn back the clock. God, I wish I’d met you sooner, Max.”  
He wanted to say “found you sooner” but couldn’t. He wanted to tell Max how badly he wanted to spare him all the pain, guard him, keep him safe – and can’t. Max’s throat is soar and dry. He lets out a small huff.  
“Me too.”  
Daniel closes his eyes. 

The last days have been more than Daniel could have ever asked for. They’ve been mountain biking and hiking. They’ve had Barbecues and taken naps in the afternoon sun. And Max has smiled. He’s laughed and joked around and patted Daniel’s back. With every hour they spent together, chased sheep and sat at the lovingly set breakfast table Daniel grew more determined in his decision to help Max. To end the farce that is a destructive and brutal father-son-relationship. Not just because Max is his teammate, his friend, someone he admires regarding his talent and determination but also because he truly, deeply and unquestioningly cares for him. So he called his advisor and a discreet lawyer. They’ll figure something out. The last days have shown how important Max is to Daniel, how much he means to him.

And something unexpected and earth shaking and terrifying happened.   
Daniel fell for him. Yes, he was the one to tell Max jokingly not to fall for him too quickly over a year ago, although he was the one to be in greatest danger of falling in love with his young, stormy and unbending teammate from the second he first laid eyes on him. He fell for him, hard. He fell in love with that bright and awake blue eyes, with their stormy grey specks in there depths. He fell in love with Max’s dry humor, his “after me, the deluge” attitude. He fell in love with pale skin, lean muscles and blond hair, bleached out by the sun. But more than anything else he fell in love with Max’s smile. Max shines. He truly does every time he bestows him with a smile. He wants to capture and conserve it, pay the best artists in the world to freeze it into portraits knowing well enough that it will never be enough. Like this hug will never be enough.   
“Max?” he asks with a husk and raspy voice and doesn’t get an answer.  
He takes his shaking hands, cups Max’s jaw and looks him straight in the eyes. Their color darkened to grey, stormy depths, a troubled see in the middle of the night. But there is tenderness, too, openness and care. Care for Daniel. Daniel’s heart gallops through his chest, desperately on the search for an escape from its cage made of ribs and flesh and blood. So the Aussie takes another breath, closes his eyes and presses his lips against Max’s.   
His lips are too chapped, he’s too harsh and has aimed badly, his lips landing too low on Max’s. And Max, oh God, Max stiffens and goes completely rigid in his arms, letting out a loud gasp.   
Daniel tries to comfort him, holding him, caressing his arms, but Max stumbles backwards, a hand covering his mouth and sheer terror roaring in his eyes.   
“Daniel, no.”   
And Daniel feels like he’s freezing to death in mere seconds, when he realizes it’s the same terror he saw in Max’s eyes after he woke up from the nightmare. As if Daniel kissing him, Daniel harbouring any deeper feelings for him, Daniel crossing every line there is, is the exact crushing nightmare Max just woke up from.   
 


	5. Or: “Not a yes, sir, not a follower”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one were things dawn on Daniel and Max is faced with his duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, folks!
> 
> Thank you so much for your brilliant and hyper-motivating comments, Jesus Christ, is this fandom awesome! Especially Rosiel and Mai for your perfectly put interpretations and input, you guys rock!  
> Again a special thanks to my Fin best-buddy extremesoft for proofreading this chapter.  
> All warnings still apply to this messy chapter, although it is probably the most positive one so far :D
> 
> Have fun, you all, I hope you like it!

Daniel ran. Of course he ran and hid after being rejected so violently.  
He sits in the kitchen, the lights turned off and drinks his third cup of coffee. He stares into the black brew and at the same time into the black nothingness in his soul.  
He kissed Max.  
And Max rejected him.  
Daniel closes his eyes. He should have reckoned that, of course, but it somehow slipped his mind. Max had no clue about Daniel’s sexuality, his interest in blonds and his never fading habit of wanting exactly what he can’t have. Although he never wanted someone so badly before in his life. Daniel tries to blank out the voice in his head telling him it’s just the last few days talking – the closeness to Max, the happiness of being at home mixing with the happiness of having Max around and liberalizing the feeling of being drawn to Max. Daniel sighs at the sound of that voice. Yeah, it might be just that. Him overreacting again as usual. Daniel is a man defined by extremes and exaggeration. He laughs too loud, he smiles too brightly, he competes too seriously, he sometimes drinks too much and constantly drives too fast. Max is also too much for him, too much to handle. All that pain and anger and misery. He talks himself into believing it and it almost, just almost, works. Daniel bites down on the inside of his cheek and empties the coffee cup. Max isn’t too much to handle, of course not. Max is what Daniel wants and Max doesn’t want him back.  
His head sinks into his hands, when his mother enters the room.  
“Jeepers, Daniel!” she exclaims when she detects her son sitting in the dark. She takes a deep breath and calms herself.  
“Sorry, mum.” Daniel murmurs muffled through his arms.  
“What are you doing up so early, buddy? What happened?”  
Of course his mother understands. He feels her hands combing through his curls and purrs into his sweater.  
“Talk to me, bud.”  
When he lifts his head his mother has taken a seat at the table right beside him, wearing a dressing gown and her reading glasses. She probably just wanted to pour two cups of coffee for herself and her husband and start the day in bed. Now she’s stuck with her lovesick son who looks like a picture of misery.  
Daniel licks his lips and shakes his head, rolling his eyes. He is so full of irritating, conflicting emotions it displays in his whole being.  
“Max woke up from a nightmare last night and I was there with him. And I’ve seen his skin and then something happened and I kissed him and he told me to fuck off and I left.”  
He looks at his mother with wide eyes. Grace Ricciardo looks into her son’s cup, shakes her head and disappears into the kitchen without a word. Daniel is left behind partly pouting, cursing himself, irritated and afraid – all at the same time.  
A moment later, Grace returns and Daniel can’t bite back the laughter.  
“Seriously? This early in the morning?”  
“You’ve just had your heart broken. Coffee won’t fix that.”  
“And vodka will?”  
“It might make you see things more clearly.”  
Daniel huffs as his mother pours the see-through liquor into shot glasses.  
“You’re a bad influence, woman.”  
“And that’s why you love me. So.”  
They empty the glasses and Daniel grimaces at the taste.  
“I’m more a beer guy.”  
“Help yourself, then.”  
“Mum, jeepers, it’s not even six o’clock!”  
His mother shrugs and leans back in her chair. Her black curls bounce cheekily.  
“It’s the first time you’re being rejected in years, Daniel. I didn’t even know it’s that serious with Max.”  
“It’s not. He didn’t know. We never talked about it or about me being interested in men at all, for that matter. It might have been a surprise for him, I guess.”  
A frown appears on his forehead and it deepens to a grimace again, when they down their second shot.  
Daniel absentmindedly fiddles with the small glass while staring daggers into the table surface.  
“Okay, he might be totally thunderstruck.”  
Grace huffs in amusement.  
“So you kissed him and he was more than surprised, which is more than understandable, if you ask me. He didn’t tell you to fuck off either, did he?”  
Sometimes her telepathic powers scare him, but right now he’s more grateful than ever to have such an intelligent and caring mother. He cherishes her for not questioning his decision to kiss Max at all. She knows he’s bi-sexual, always has been. She stated to a very carefully selected group of relatives and friends that he simply loves beauty and marvellous character – in whatever form they may appear. Now Daniel shakes his head.  
“No, he didn’t. He just said ‘Daniel, no’ and I don’t think that changes anything. A no is a no.”  
“Oh, it changes a lot. ‘Daniel, no’ doesn’t mean ‘Daniel, never’, you know?”  
Her eyes twinkle behind the glasses. Daniel’s head falls onto the table top again.  
“Mum, you’re fuelling unreasonable hopes here. Not helping.” He growls and hears and smells vodka being poured again.  
“I don’t think Max consciously rejected you. Try to see things from his point of view, buddy. He grew up with a despicable monster disguised as a father. All he knows is enmity and forced perfection and hiding behind cold masks. You just mentioned his nightmare. For you the last days have been a vacation, a normal summer break in this not so normal household. For him it was a turmoil and unknown territory that probably left him questioning his whole life. And now you went even further.” She interrupts herself and licks her lips. “I guess, he’s absolutely terrified and lost.”  
“I didn’t mean to hurt him. Jesus, I scared him.”  
“Isn’t love scary all the time?”  
Daniel is completely taken aback by that and stares into the warm eyes he inherited from his mother.  
“So you think, I’ve got a chance?”  
“Instead of answering this, may I ask you something?”  
Daniel just shrugs, knowing very well, that she will ask anyway.  
“Why did you kiss Max Verstappen tonight?”  
Hearing his full name makes Daniel startle a little. He thinks of the man, the racing driver he shares the grid, the garage and sometimes podiums with and tries to link this image to the man upstairs. He lets out a long sigh.  
“I kissed him because I wanted to. I wanted him to feel loved, wanted, needed, and cherished. I guess the longer I wait the farther he slips from me. And back in Europe, it might be too late.”  
“So you want to help him? Solve the situation with his father?”  
Daniel rummages through his mind and bites his lip. He keeps fidgeting with the vodka glass and clicks his tongue when he’s finished sorting out his thoughts.  
“No, it’s not that simple. I seriously could murder his father. He deserves it. But I don’t want to simply save Max. At least, that’s not it. I want to shield him, mom, I want to help him become himself and happy. And that’s risky, because I don’t even know a version of Max that isn’t moulded by Jos Verstappen.” Daniel feels tears swimming in his eyes. It’s the disgusting taste of vodka, he thinks, and knows that in reality it’s the gut wrenching uncertainty and fear and uplifting adoration that drowns out all the rest.  
“But I’ll do my damn best to find out, mom. I’ll do anything to see Max smile like he did yesterday when he played football with dad and Michelle. I’ll do anything to see him smile like that for as long as I possibly can or as long as he allows me to do so.”  
Grace cocks her head in contentment and cups her son’s face.  
“Tell him. Tell him exactly that and more. Show him, he’s not just a hardship case and a deer in the headlights to you. He’s a racing driver, Daniel, and a damn proud one, too. Treat him like one.”  
Daniel sniffles and suddenly feels himself crying in his mother’s arms. She draws soothing circles on his back and mutters calming words that don’t make any sense at all. All the fear and doubt and longing comes crumbling down, washed away by Russian liquor and Australian tears.  
They sit in shared silence while the morning sun climbs higher and higher and sends warm rays through the kitchen window and over the old table surface.  
Then Daniel gets up and wipes his face before stretching himself with a loud yawn.  
“I’ll be back in a sec.”  
Grace watches as her son climbs the stairs in partly hesitant partly enthusiastic jumps.  
“Oh, and buddy? Remember to tell Max there are fresh croissants for breakfast.”  
“Gangster!”

Grace seals the cap of the vodka bottle and heaves herself out of the cosy chair with a sigh and stumbles towards the kitchen. What a morning that is – and what a mother does for her loved ones. She grins widely and whistles tipsily while setting the table for a very early breakfast – it’s impossible to think of going back to sleep now anyway. 

Max lies awake. Of course he lies awake after having rejected Daniel so violently.  
He stares at the white ceiling and watches on, as the night makes way to the morning, as the moon makes way to the sun. He sighs and wipes his eyes again, focussing on his phone screen. He looks at the pictures of Daniel and himself, smiling, leaning against their bikes on some awesome and reddish dusty mountain track.  
He scrolled through Daniel’s Instagram the whole night, taking in every ray of sunshine he could get his hands on after having stripped Daniel of the ability to shine himself last night.  
He curses himself again. Yesterday was a memorable night of firsts and Max fucked it up. He traces a hand over his lip and tries to remember the feeling of Daniel’s lips touching his own – and fails.  
“Fuck.” He curses aloud. Murphy’s Law strikes again, it seems. Everything that possibly, perhaps, maybe could go wrong, will definitely, inevitably, certainly go wrong – and Max made everything go horribly wrong. He dreamt about Daniel kissing him so much and so often, he played out every version of a possible kiss between them – except the version that actually took place yesterday.  
Max throws the phone onto the mattress and covers his eyes with his arm.  
If he weren’t so eaten up by his horrible nightmare, he would have reacted differently. He would have embraced Daniel and held him and told him how long he’s been wishing for this kiss to happen. 

And – suddenly his phone vibrates and he fishes for it without opening his eyes.  
The name that flashes across the screen makes his alarm system blare and signal fire spreading sparks. At the same time he feels icy coldness running through his veins instead of blood. His finger trembles. He could ignore the call. He could blame the signal in Australia or the battery of his phone. Max takes a deep breath and answers the call. He knows the consequences of ignoring him too well.  
“Son.” Is the rather cold welcome.  
“Hi, dad.” Max’s voice shakes, although he tries to calm himself.  
“Am I right in thinking, you’re in Australia? With that pussy Ricciardo?”  
Max closes his eyes.  
“Yes.”  
“What was that?”  
“Yes, Sir. I’m in Australia. With Daniel.”  
A short silence follows, Jos Verstappen collecting his mind, his son daring to correct him and Max bracing himself for the punch.  
“Come home.”  
“What? But, I-“  
“I will say it one more time, Max, and one time only. Come home. Now.”  
The line dies.  
Max starts to pack his things like he’s in trance. 

Daniel hesitates in front of the door to Max’s room. He ruffles his hair for what feels like the thousandth time this morning, leaving it with striking resemblance to a bird’s nest.  
He braces himself for meeting Max, meeting resentment and anger and fear, but maybe it’s going to be just fine. The small voice in his head is tipsy from vodka and warm and oh so promising.  
In the exact moment, Daniel lifts his hand to knock at the door politely, said door flings open and Max collides with him – his blue suitcase in hand.  
“Max?”  
“I’ve got to go.” Max tries to push past Daniel but Daniel stops him with his hands lifted halfway.  
“Wait a second. Where are you going?”  
Max chokes on the words “back home” and grips the suitcase even tighter. He simply shakes his head and gives Daniel a light shove.  
“I just need to go. I’ve been here too long already.”  
Daniel clears his throat. He wants to yell ‘I love you’ from the top of his lungs but he doesn’t want to scare Max – anything but that.  
“What happened?” he asks instead and Max shakes his head frantically, rapidly breathing, biting his lip so hard it splints.  
“My father, he called. He wants me to come back. I need to go. Now.”  
Daniel follows his instinct and hugs Max. Max who’s all over the place again, shaken by fear and vigilance and reluctance.  
“Please stay, Max. Let me help you.”  
Suddenly Max detangles himself again, shaking his head.  
“I don’t want your help. Just let me go.”  
Daniel shushes him and lays heavy hands on his shoulders, squeezing tense muscles.  
“We’ll figure something out. We’ll do it together, you and I.”  
Something, perhaps the pleading tone in his voice or the touch, is suddenly too much for Max to handle and he shoves Daniel away from him, ruffling his hair and gritting his teeth. Dark shadows under his eyes and his wrinkled shirt make him look tired and exhausted and deranged.  
“I told you this before but I’ll repeat myself, so you might finally get it: I don’t need your pity!”  
“I’m not doing this because I pity you, Max, please.”  
The outstretched hand and the care in Daniel’s dark eyes remind Max of his dream and he swallows drily. The urge of pushing Daniel away from him gets too much to bear.  
“That’s why you did what you did last night, isn’t it? Because I’m the poor, poor boy with the abusive father?” Max hisses behind gritted teeth and huffs angrily when Daniel’s expression changes and his lips move upward in a relieved smirk.  
“Wait. You honestly believe, that I kissed you out of pity? That I kissed you as an act of, I don’t know, compassion or sympathy?”  
Daniel can’t stop himself from grinning. He’d spent the whole morning brooding in fear of losing everything he hoped for to happen between them and it was all for nothing – including the vodka. Max stares at him in disbelief and anger boils up rapidly in his stomach, blocking his throat with a dry lump.  
“To be honest I don’t see what’s so funny about all this.” He growls, his voice dark and annoyed.  
Daniel ruffles his hair and takes a deep breath, before putting his hands on the collar of Max’s shirt again, high enough to touch the skin on his neck ever so lightly.  
“I didn’t kiss you because I pity you, Max.” he explains, all smiles gone, replaced by calm security and fierce adoration. “I kissed you because I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long and I just lost my nerves last night. I kissed you, because I admire you and I’m into you and-”  
He loses the words as if they had slipped through his fingers like sand or water. He stares into Max’s oceanic eyes, finds the specks of tenderness and clings to them like a drowning man.  
“Of course I pity you, Max, how couldn’t I? You deserve so much better. You deserve the world and happiness and sunshine and love. Jeepers, Max, I don’t know anyone who deserves love as badly as you do.”  
Max’s eyes widen and a silent “Oh” escapes his lips. Daniel follows his instincts and takes his hand.  
“Please, Max. Don’t make me watch you leave. I care too much about you to let you go.”  
Max realises that Daniel does use these words on purpose. He asks him to stay, he doesn’t command him. And he doesn’t want him to leave, but doesn’t want him to go.  
“You really surprised me, Daniel. To be honest it scared me.”  
Daniel realises that Max does use these words on purpose. He was surprised, not bewildered. And Daniel didn’t scare him, but the kiss did. A coy smile spreads on his lips.  
“I lost my nerves yesterday. I shouldn’t have done it like that. That was impulsive.” Max blinks away the echo of his father’s voice in the back of his head.  
“I shouldn’t have rejected you like that. I shouldn’t have rejected you at all to be honest.”  
Daniel’s heart makes a jump and he has to remind himself it’s Max he’s talking to. A grown up, a man of his – rather few – words, a racing driver used to risking his skin in every turn and straight.  
“Does that mean you’re staying? For a while longer?”  
Max tightens the grip of his hand and nods.  
“Yes.” 

 

They spend the day at the beach, simply taking naps and watching the waves rolling onto the coast and listening to seagulls screeching.  
Daniel opens his eyes and still feels dizzy, when he watches Max snoozing on his stomach, sunglasses lopsidedly covering his closed eyes.  
“The vodka was a bad idea.” Murmurs Daniel to himself and smiles shyly when he sees Max’s mouth curve upwards into a belligerent and cheeky smirk.  
“Your mother is really one for the books. Serving vodka at dawn, on a weekday, to her own son.”  
“At least I’m old enough to drink anything stronger than milk and orange juice.” Daniel retorts and leans back with a defiant grin.  
“I would drink you under the table at any given chance.” grumbles Max and smirks.  
“Ha, that’s the pubertal juvenility talking.”  
“That’s the fugitive from the local nursing home talking. Should I speak louder, Daniel, do you hear me, old man?”  
“So, that’s enough!”  
With that Daniel throws his book aside, gets up and grabs Max by his waist.  
“No, no, no, no!” yells Max, but Daniel just shakes his head and flicks Max over his shoulder, firmly holding him steady by the hollow of his knees. Max laughs too hard himself to reinforce his protest. Daniel trots into the water and drops the Dutchman with a deft movement into the approaching waves. Max lands in the surf with an inelegant splash. Daniel rubs his hands and turns around to make it back to the beach, as Max throws himself on Daniel’s back with a laughter and a roar that sounds like a little animal dying.  
“Jeepers!” is all Daniel can stutter before a cold wave swallows him and spits him out three meters away. Daniel shakes his head like a wet dog and points a finger at Max who stands in the waist-deep water, the white shirt clinging to his chest like a second skin.  
“You, Verstappen, are an untreatable disease!”  
The grin Max flashes at Daniel competes easily with the bright sun above them.  
“Yeah, and you still love me.”  
Daniel just shakes his head and makes his way back to the safe shore.  
He slumps down on his towel and wrings out his curls. He watches as Max makes his way back to their sunny spot on the dunes and – stares blatantly. From the tanned skin of his legs over the perfectly fitting dark blue shorts to the, oh lord, soaking wet and see-through shirt that sticks to his defined chest. A bright grin displays on Max’s full lips and drops of glistening water fall out of his blond hair that catches every ray of sunshine and tenfolds them.  
Daniel swallows and rolls to his stomach.  
Max smirks and – fucking takes off his wet and sandy shirt. The expression on his face changes for a second from confident and provoking to unsure and questioning, but it’s just for the blink of an eye before the charming smile returns to his lips.  
“It’s no use completely wet and dirty.”  
“If we had only thought of extra clothes.”  
He means it as a joke, flirtation even, but gives Max the chance to take it seriously. The bruises are still visible and look like battle scars on Max’s pale skin.  
“Na, I’m fine.” Says Max and lays down next to him, a shimmer of red surrounding his nose.  
Daniel almost bursts with pride and simply manages a nod.  
They enter their own stratosphere now, their own universe, circling each other, as Daniel lifts a hand and lets his knuckles trace over Max’s side. He can’t see his eyes hid behind the sunglasses but the image of Max’s eyes fluttering shut and his breathing hitching by the touch makes Daniel gasp inaudibly.  
Daniel traces the clean and soft skin, reaches a bruise and circles around it until he reaches his navel and a thin line of blond pubes.  
He hears Max swallow over the incoming waves and bites his lip. Goosebumps spread under Daniel’s fingers. If Max already reacts so distinctively to such light and innocent touches, how would he react if Daniel used his tongue instead of his fingers? The thought causes heat to shoot straight through him, heat that has nothing to do with the scorching sun.  
“What if someone’s watching?”  
Max’s voice is raspy and dark and hoarse and almost too much for Daniel to handle.  
He shoots a quick glance up and down the deserted beach. The Pacific is way too cold by now to attract people – theoretically.  
“We’re alone.” Daniel states matter-of-factly. He rolls to his side, propping himself up with his arm and nods at Max, his hand still lightly resting on his stomach.  
“Do you like that?” Max’s answer consists of a content hum that sounds very much like a purr.  
Daniel gathers all his courage and bows down to press a gentle kiss on Max’s chest, carefully aiming for unscathed skin. It draws a refrained sigh from Max.  
Just as Daniel’s about to follow the path he sketched out with his hands before his phone rings in his bag. His forehead lands on Max’s chest and he grumbles irritably.  
“I’ll kill whoever this is, I swear to god.” He growls before fishing for the source of unwanted disturbance.  
He answers the call and listens for a few seconds. Seconds that Max uses to watch the lean muscles under the sun-kissed skin of Daniel’s upper arm and shoulder. A single drop that Daniel shook out of his black curls runs down his spine and Max gathers all his courage, props himself up on his arm and catches the saltwater with his lips.  
Daniel’s breathing hitches and he clears his throat before saying. “Sister. You know I love you from the bottom of my heart, but your timing really sucks.”  
Max chuckles dryly at that and Daniel’s grin is perversely wide.  
“Oh, no, you didn’t disturb anything important, my dear, what can I do for you?”  
Daniel draws circles over Max’s upper arm and plays with his fingers, while grunting a few short answers and Max is fascinated by the opposites of that grumbling sarcasm and the wide smile on his face and his loving touches.  
“Alright, we’ll be back in an hour. Tell Marc I’ll personally murder him if he vandalizes the fridge again. Okay, bye.”  
He nonchalantly throws the phone back into the bag and nods at Max again, who cocks his head raising his eyebrows.  
“Fancy a Barbie with some friends of mine back at my place?”  
“I guess, we’re not talking about dolls, are we?”


	6. Or:"Fit the box, fit the mould!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Daniel doesn’t fit the line and realises he might not be alone with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks!
> 
> Let the good times roll, right? So here’s the next chapter, two more to come.  
> Thank you guys for your brilliant commentary on this story, I never expected it to be this well received!  
> Thanks again to extremesoft, my hero and absolute legend around here for proofreading this and bearing my insecurity about this! <3 :D

“Hey, you two. Glad you haven’t been eaten by a shark, mate.”  
“Shut up. Cheers, Jake.”

They are welcomed by the whole Ricciardo family and three close friends. Jake and Marc have been Daniel’s class mates back in High School. Nina is Michelle’s best friend and neighbour. Jake clicked his tongue and shook Max’s hand with a bright smile, saying “So you’re the mysterious colleague Daniel can’t quit talking about.”, while Marc just raised his beer bottle at him and waved. Nina smiles at him shyly, being too occupied by Michelle’s son and Daniel’s nephew.  
Michelle hugged Max tightly, pinching his cheek lightly afterwards.  
“Jesus, Daniel, what have you done to your guest? He has a really bad sunburn.”  
His skin feels hot and reddish, but Max doubts it’s sun-indicated. Actually Max was more aroused by Daniel than anything else, thank you very much.  
“Jake, give way, fat brat!” Daniel grumbles and takes a seat close to the grill, peeking over his father’s shoulders.  
Max helps himself to a beer and is instantly engaged in a conversation with Marc. 

It ends up to be a brilliant and relaxed evening with delicious meat and salads, decent beer and good music. Daniel can’t shake the feeling that Max isn’t comfortable around so many strangers, but Marc’s dry humour and Nina’s gentle nature help to sooth him a little. He even wonders from time to time if Daniel’s friends know who he is and how he is connected to their friend, that they are rivals, driving in the F1 for Aston Martin Red Bull Racing.  
It doesn’t matter to them, Max is instantly welcomed either way. 

As soon it was dark and Ricciardo’s youngest family member tucked in, they sit around a camp fire in the garden and talk about everything and nothing – expect racing. Max can’t help thinking, he’s never spend so much time without racing or motor sport in general being mentioned. It’s freshening and awkward at the same time. It shows how little Max is skilled in talking to people in general, while Daniel blabbers and jokes around, being his typical lovable self.  
“Let’s play a game!” Jake suddenly exclaims, making Daniel huff in annoyance.  
“Jeepers, aren’t we too old for games? Sorry, Max.”  
“Yeah, it’s all right, you’re forgiven.” Max raises his bottle in Daniel’s direction and grinned shyly.  
“Black stories?” asks Michelle and Nina groans.  
“I’ll have nightmares because of you lot, seriously. How can a game about finding the most gruesome ways to die, be any fun at all?!” Nina buries her head in her hands and Daniel pats her back in a soothing and at the same time amused manner.  
“Never have I ever!” declares Jake and wiggles excitingly in his chair. Max has more and more the feeling that Jake might be a more subtle version of Daniel with his brown matt of curls and slightly reddish beard.  
“Alrighty.”, sighs Daniel in defeat. “Let’s start with something easy. Never have I ever been skinny dipping.”  
Michelle snorts and takes a sip from her cocktail, like everyone else – except Max, who keeps eye contact with Daniel who smirks at him and wiggles his eyebrows.  
“Good, my turn.” Says Marc and clicks his tongue. “Never have I ever cheated on my girlfriend or boyfriend.”  
“We need a better definition for cheating, mate.” Daniel lets out a high laugh at the serious look on Jake’s face and Marc grunts in annoyance. “Jesus, never have I ever kissed someone and dated someone else simultaneously. You happy now?!”  
Nina shakes her head, Daniel thinks about it a second and sets down his bottle – Marc ends up to be the only one drinking, being instantly teased by Michelle “You do know how this game works, right? You’re supposed to make others drink not the other way around.”  
Marc throws the beer bottle cap at her as an answer.  
Max clears his throat and stares into the fire.  
“Never have I ever broken into a building.” He says and shrugs his shoulder.  
“Uuuh, Max reveals his criminal streak.” Daniel giggles and radiates pride that makes Max feel heat creeping over his face that isn’t fire-related.  
“What kind of building, Max?” asks Michelle, still combing the cap out of her dark hair.  
“I don’t know… A shopping centre or a store?”  
“Or a garage?” asks Daniel with a wide grin.  
“Oh shit!” exclaims Max and drinks dutifully alongside Daniel, who bursts into laughter the second he swallows.  
“Hey, we want to hear that story!” demands Jake and both drivers just shake their heads.  
“That’s one for another day – and definitely more alcohol.”  
“Sounds sexy. By the way sexy. Never have I ever kissed a person of my own sex.”  
Marc is the first to put his bottle away, as well as Jake.  
Nina and Michelle look at each other and burst into giggles before chinking glasses and drinking. Daniel pretends to be in shock.  
“Oh, sister, you naughty beast!”  
“Like brother, like sister.”  
Michelle sticks out her tongue and Daniel takes a large sip from his beer bottle. Max stares at him in bewilderment. He just outed himself, more or less. But Daniel keeps radiating calmness and happiness. Max tries to hide away crouching in his chair and drinks as quickly as possible – gambling debts are debts of honour though.  
“So.” Jake looks around with a mischievous grin. “Let’s cancel the virgins from our list.”  
They all drink and Daniel pats his buddy’s shoulders.  
“Straight to the point, Jake, as always.”  
“Good, now something more challenging. Never have I ever had sex with a person of my own sex.”  
“Jeepers. However we define that, I’m fucked.” moans Daniel and empties his bottle, stares at it thoughtfully and smirks. “Literally.”  
Max stares at him with his mouth hanging open. He didn’t just say that? What if someone tells the press about this? What if he himself is connected to Daniel in that way? It could end their careers, destroy their families and cost them their futures. Max has to stop himself from hyperventilating and fidgets with the bottle label. He seems to be the only one to be so completely taken aback by Daniel’s openness, because the rest of their unequal group seems to not even take the slightest notion of Daniel revealing his sexuality. Quite the opposite. Jake giggles like a lunatic.  
“Was it Mr. Parker? Jesus, the way you ate that guy alive back then.”  
“Mr. Parker?” asks Nina and her eyes widen. “Oh, he taught Geometry at our High School, right? Yeah, he was good looking and that intellect...”  
“Intellect?” echoes Daniel sarcastically. “Yeah, because that was what I cared about back then. And no, it wasn’t Mr. Parker, and I won’t tell any names. A gentleman never tells.”  
Michelle almost falls off her chair laughing.  
“Oh, brother, you’ve never been a gentleman a day in your life.”  
Daniel just nods and illuminates the night with his 1000-watt-grin. Max is still thunderstruck and his heartbeat resounds in his ears. Daniel flashes him a grin and it softens to a tender and caring smile.  
He mouths the words “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.” And Max feels a rush of warmth and trust calming him, as if Daniel had whispered the words against his ears and hugged him tightly.  
He takes a deep breath and relaxes slowly, when Daniel rises and stretches like a sleepy cat.  
“Hey, I’ll mix myself a cocktail. Does anyone else want something?””  
“Yeah, I’ll come with you.” Hears Max himself talk and Daniel flashes him a bright smile. 

 

They enter the kitchen and Daniel rummages through the fridge whistling to a song that’s played outside.  
Max leans against the door frame. He is pleasantly tipsy, staring at Daniel blatantly.  
“Your friends are… interesting.” Daniel laughs from behind the fridge and puts an ice cube into his mouth.  
“Yeah, I guess we’re all searched for and found around here. Jake can be quite rude and Marc has a terrible sense of humour, but Nina is awesome.”  
“You trust them, don’t you?” Max can’t conceal the doubt and caution in his voice. Daniel cocks his head, knife in hand and slowly chewing the ice cube.  
“With my life. These people have known me long before I went to Europe and they will do so long after I finished my career. These people mean the world to me. I don’t need to worry about anything I’m telling them. They are family.”  
Max nods and bites his lip.  
“What’s bothering you, champ?”  
“I envy you.” Again, Max has no say in the words that leave his mouth, dripping over his heated lips. “You are so daring and clinical on the track and I expected you to be a big softy at home, but… you just keep on surprising me, Daniel.”  
“You are here, too. Why the envy then?”  
“Because I’m not good at talking or at meeting people. I’m uptight and stiff. Sometimes I think I’m more a robot than a human being to be honest. I don’t fit in this place.”  
Max can’t hide the disappointment and self-doubt anymore. This thought had circled his head many times during the last days and now he is too drunk to care about Daniel knowing about it.  
Daniel, who doesn’t answer but grabs the remote for the stereo and clicks two buttons, before a loud song sounds through the kitchen. Max watches with wide eyes and pursed lips as Daniel starts to dance from counter to counter, flinging his arms widely and grinning like a lunatic.  
Max clears his throat.  
“What are you doing exactly?”  
“A dance-off. Come on!”  
Max shakes his head. Perplexity and shame blushing his cheeks.  
“I can’t even dance.”  
“Bullshit, everyone can dance. And no one’s watching. And I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”  
Daniel locks his lips and throws away the figurative key.  
So Max sways awkwardly from one side to another, making Daniel laugh wholeheartedly. He comes closer, puts his hands on Max’s hips and tries to correct his rhythm.  
“Jesus, how can such an agile driver be so stiff around his waist.”  
Max feels like Daniel’s hands would burn through his shirt and skin at any moment.  
Daniel comes even closer and his hands wander to Max’s back, pressing against his lower back and shoulder blades.  
“Relax, Max. I’m here and I’ll help you. Just let go.”  
And Max let’s go. It takes him a few seconds, but when Daniel starts to sing “Cause I’ve been questioning…” Max claps his hands and sings awkwardly “when you gonna see I’m not a…” and Daniel joins in and makes it sound melodic again “part of your machine!”. They dance through the whole song and Max can’t stop himself from jumping around and singing at the top of his lungs.  
They fall into each other’s arms at the end of the song and Daniel catches Max as always, rapidly breathing and chuckling light-heartedly. Max still feels slightly embarrassed but Daniel holds him and laughs with him and it’s alright that way.  
The next song starts and Max doesn’t realize they’ve been dancing until he recognizes the lyrics. He leans his head against Daniel’s fuzzy curls. They move in slow circles, their steps matching and synchronising to the slow beat to X Ambassador’s “Gorgeous”.  
Daniel wraps his arms around Max like he’s not planning to let him go any time soon and Max takes in the smell of sun, sand and firewood that lingers in Daniel’s ebony hair.  
“You fit in this place. I guess, all you need is some time to get used to my crazy-ass family.”  
Max chuckles lightly against Daniel’s skin.  
“Yeah, maybe. I like the thought of that, to be honest.”  
“You’re gorgeous, too. Do you know that?”, asks Daniel in a husky voice. “Not just because of your good looks. Everything about you is gorgeous.”  
Max lifts his head and flashes a cheeky grin. The sight of that makes Daniel want to explode with joy.  
“Even when I beat your lap time?”  
Daniel takes his time to answer that question without letting go of Max in the slightest.  
“Yeah, maybe even more so, even if it takes me a second to remember that, because you are an incredible pain in the ass. But I’m, too. We’re the same, you and I, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”  
Max’s breathing hitches at all that honesty and open-mindedness and he suddenly feels so much for Daniel that he needs an outlet for it – now. He tightens his grip in Daniel’s shirt and looks him straight in the face.  
Daniel stares into Max’s dark blue eyes. Max doesn’t dare to blink as if he’d miss a braking point or overtaking possibility if he did. Daniel searches for nothing and everything at once finding everything and nothing in the cobalt depths.  
“About last night.” Daniel starts and is strangely out of breath all of a sudden. He takes all his fleeting courage and licks his lips. “Our first kiss kind of ended in a disaster. Do you mind trying it again?”  
He looks up at Max and what he sees makes his heart burst with everything he feels for that guy. Max is stern and concentrated, radiates focus, but it’s different from the tunnel vision on track, because it’s solely and exclusively aimed at Daniel – and Daniel’s lips.  
“If you promise to not run from me again.” 

Max leans forward and kisses Daniel. It’s like a collision, Daniel’s cool lips and Max heated temper, Daniel’s cold fingers digging into Max’s hair. Max is daring and headstrong, making Daniel stumble backwards and against the dark wooden kitchen counter. Max digs his hands into Daniel’s shirt, tearing at it on the never ending search for more skin. Max huffs, licks over Daniel’s lower lip just to bite into the soft skin a second later. Daniel answers with a hiss and a surprised smirk. They part for mere seconds and stare into each other’s eyes. Max grabs a fistful of Daniel’s fuzzy curls and bends his head back just to crash his mouth on Daniel’s again. They fight for dominance and the second it dawns to Daniel that he’s about to lose to Max is the same second Max slides a hand down his body and cups the bulge in his black short.  
“Shit.” Escapes from Daniel’s parted and reddened lips. Max just smiles, wide eyed and determined.  
Daniel yields completely, dropping his head to Max’s shoulder, biting into soft skin. 

The exact second Max lets out an irritating mixture of an aroused moan and a pained hiss, Daniel backs off, surprise and worry flashing over his face.  
“Shit, Max, I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t.” Max swallows and Daniel is so distracted by that, he simply stares. “Don’t do that. Don’t be afraid of hurting me, Daniel. I’m still the same person and I can’t stand being treated as anyone or anything less. Especially not by you. So please, bite me.”  
Daniel can’t stop himself from smirking at the equivocation and Max grins at him challengingly.  
Then he bows his head again, eyes locked with Max’s until their lips meet for a tender kiss again. But Max isn’t in the mood for tender. He catches Daniel’s lips with his teeth again, tightening his grip in his hair. Daniel lets him. He doesn’t care how it happens, as long as Max keeps touching him and kissing him.  
“Fuck, I want you!”  
Max’s hands slip under the hem of his shirt, instantly wandering down to his shorts, making room for himself. Daniel curses under his breath as he feels Max’s hand wrapping around his steely hard cock.  
“God, Daniel.” murmurs Max against the soft skin behind Daniel’s ear. “Touch me.” It’s the mixture of husky command and silent plead that makes Daniel instantly do what he’s told. He claws his way through Max’s shirt, out of his way, and kisses his neck, while scraping his fingernails over Max’s rear.  
Max starts to stroke Daniel in firm and determined movements, leaving Daniel bite his lip. 

A part of him realizes they’re jerking each other off in the middle of his parent’s kitchen. A small voice in his head tells him, they should at least go upstairs, but as Max circles the sensitive tip of his swollen cock with his thumb, the voice is drowned out by his own moan – that Max instantly swallows with a fiery kiss. Daniel tears open Max’s shorts, instantly grapping his hot erection.  
Max’s eyes flutter shut, his lashes cast long shadows over his flushed cheeks.  
“Fuck!” he groans, forehead pressed against Daniel’s.  
Daniel feels his mind slipping away, losing the ability to focus on anything but Max, drowning in Max’s bright eyes with their widened pupils. There is a sturdy hand in his hair again that pulls him back and Daniel follows the movement obediently – he’s moulded by Max, wax in his hands, formed as Max wants him and brought to the boundaries of his mind and beyond by touches that aren’t exactly graceful or erotic.  
But it’s Max that touches him, keeps stroking him in a fast and uninterrupted and torturing firm grip.  
“Shit, Max!” he moans this time feeling his climax climbing up his spine and still being able to keep touching Max, holding on to him with a trembling grasp.  
“Daniel.” Despite his powerful and strong movement, being a bastion of calm and dominance vibrating through every fibre of his body, Max’s voice is soft and quiet, a caring whisper. It’s these contrasts, Max’s unbending pride and headstrong control mixing with and being overthrown by the longing and lust in his eyes that make his muscles twitch.  
“Come for me.” Softly moaned against the nape of his neck is all that’s needed to send Daniel over the edge, drowning a quivering moan in Max’s hair, digging his nails into his back until the Dutchman groans in pain. Hot cum spreads between them and it’s that total loss of control, the sweet pain radiating from his back and Daniel’s sluggish and quickening strokes that make Max follow him down that cliff, clinging to Daniel with all the strength that’s left in him while falling and being caught by Daniel again. It’s always Daniel Max comes back to.  
I love you. Fuck. We’re such a mess. We shouldn’t have done that. Fuck, I think, I love you.  
Max wants to voice his tumbling thoughts, but when he opens his mouth a trembling moan is all that flees his lips. 

 

What follows is silence – mind blowing, deafening, all consuming silence. Their foreheads touch lightly. Daniel’s sweaty curls tickle Max’s skin, as he lifts his head and presses a firm kiss on Daniel’s chin.  
Daniel takes a shaky intake of breath and smiles warmly at Max, who leans against his chest heavily.  
“You are incredible.”  
Max chuckle is dark and he lets his hand trace over Daniel’s back lazily.  
“Right back at you.”  
Their silent laughter fills the nightly kitchen in Perth, Australia, and Daniel knows in this moment, that whatever happens between them, how this thing (whatever it may be in the end) develops once they get sucked into the engineered insanity again, once come Europe, winter, distance, Jos Verstappen, he’ll always cling to these very seconds with Max – his pounding heartbeat, shared breaths and the feeling of holding Max in his arms in the dark.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs mentioned here are of course
> 
> “Machine” by Imagine Dragons &  
> “Gorgeous” by X Ambassadors (as mentioned) ;)
> 
> That this hot chapter is ironically the sixth is unfortunately just a pun in German (“sechs” is the number and “sex”… well. It sounds the same and I think it’s funny, judge me! xD)


	7. Or: “Take a seat in the foyer, take a number”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one about distances, collisions and damage control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks!
> 
> Thank you all for your feedback once again, it’s such a joy writing this, Jesus :DD  
> Let’s get it started!

The week in Australia slips through their fingers like dry sand and once they’re back in Europe the never-ending rush of events and races sucks them in again. They come back to each other, of course. They meet in exchangeable hotel rooms around the globe and leave rumbled white sheets, their mixed scents and resounding chuckles behind. 

Max manages the balancing act between being the aggressive and stubborn racing driver and the gentle and caring man quite well. It takes him a few moments in Daniel’s arms to calm himself. Daniel soaking in champagne and Max annoyed after another DNF in Singapore.  
“It’s alright. Max, it’s okay.” is what Daniel would murmur against his neck again and again until Max’s tense muscles would loosen up and he’d cling to Daniel with full force. Max would lift his head and kiss Daniel, taking in the taste of champagne and biting Daniel’s lip so hard the taste of blood would drown out everything else. He knows how these things work – keep your head down and elbows out. He slowly gets the feeling that Daniel understands only too well, punishing his mediocre results with bites and scratches. Emotions finding an outlet in one way or another almost every race weekend with incredible and torturing long weekdays in between.  
Sometimes they would flirt with each other, even in front of the cameras. Fooling around during press conferences, complimenting each other’s bodies – Daniel instantly scratches his nose at the memory of that interview, a wide infatuated grin spreading over his face – or making ambiguous remarks in each other’s presence. 

What they’re doing is more than dangerous and Daniel is very aware of that. No one must know. It’s like playing hide and seek under pain of a death penalty. They keep circling each other like hungry wolves ready to charge, always hungry, always waiting. They sneak from one part of the garage to the other, lurk around each other’s driver’s rooms and tiptoe through hotel floors with galloping heartbeats just for quickly exchanged kisses and touches. It’s that never ending rollercoaster ride they’ve entered back in Australia. Hot kisses, light chuckles, unbearable disappointment. 

That is until Malaysia, until they share the podium again after Max’s birthday and Daniel wraps his arms around Max instantly after getting out of his car. He can hear Max laugh under his helmet and Daniel is so full of happiness and adrenaline he doesn’t even care about the myriad cameras flashing at the two red bulls hugging tightly.   
“Fuck, Max, we did it!”  
It’s not the first time they share a podium with each other, it’s not the first time they return to the hotel in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and champagne and with soar cheeks from grinning so much – but it’s the first time Daniel licks the taste of champagne from Max’s chest and their trophies watch in harmony as Max presses Daniel’s hands into damp sheets and listen to the hoarsely murmured confessions being exchanged. It works. Somehow it works, sharing highs and lows and breakdowns and laughter.  
Sometimes Daniel would try to bring up the subject of Jos Verstappen, whenever they are alone in between sessions or after races.   
“I don’t get it. You don’t need your father as an advisor. Your style improved a lot this year. You’re a way better driver than your dad. He can’t counsel you any longer.”  
Max comes back naked two water bottles in hands and his chest shimmering with sweat. He shrugs and smile slyly.   
“Yeah, I get it. But he’s my father.”  
It’s always the same answer Daniel would receive. He’s my father. As if that was an excuse, an explanation, a defence for everything he does. For putting Max under all that pressure, for separating him from any person, that could turn out to be his friend. Max would drown out Daniel’s doubt with a kiss.  
“I don’t want to ruin this night with a fight about my old man, alright?”  
And Daniel would let him… 

 

As the 2017 season rushes towards its inevitable end Daniel watches most of the races on the screen in the garage, simply because his car fails him three times in the last four races. So he watches, as Max conquers the race tracks in the United States, South America and finally Abu Dhabi.   
But with Max scoring solid results in the end and the summer break being around the corner Daniel feels him slipping through his fingers. It starts with Max kissing him less frequently, going straight to the point, instantly pressing Daniel against any suitable surface and fumbling with his pants. It starts with Max leaving in the middle of the night and not even saying goodbye, simply assuming Daniel would be asleep. It starts with Max spending the time after races more often with Helmut Marko, his father and Christian.   
Daniel would text him, ask him if he’d like to come over and Max regularly declines the invitation.   
“We need to be careful. I’ll text you later.”

So Daniel stops asking and sits in his hotel room from time to time and is eaten away by the fear of losing Max. When Max would visit him later, carefully closing the door and avoiding any noise, he’d see the morphing Max has gone through – he’s back to being the aggressive, unapologetic and competitive loner, praised by his advisor, moulded by his father. And Daniel feels he’s losing Max, when they exchange high-fives on the sofa, when they hug each other after Abu Dhabi and say goodbye for the winter break. And he feels he’s losing Max the most, when he’s closest to him, when Max kisses him too dominantly, when he’s pressing him against the wall of his driver’s room too firmly and pounds into him until Daniel’s vision blurs with restrained tears – when he seeks solace after the shitty last quarter of his season and meets ice cold eyes and a callous shrug.

 

Daniel spends the winter break reminiscing the summer break, remembering hot afternoons in the sun, football games at the beach, Barbecues and soft chuckles under cool bedsheets. He could fly out to Holland of course, but for what? Starting a war with Jos Verstappen won’t be of any use if Max is the victim that’s being claimed.   
“Fuck!”  
He watches every race that involved Max Verstappen again and again and yet again, just to get a glimpse of blond hair, full lips and stern eyes. He paces through his room at night, waiting for it to be early enough in Europe to call Max, just for his calls to be declined again and again and yet again.   
His parents see the change he’s going through but can’t do anything. It’s just how these things inevitably end. But Daniel is too much an enthusiast, too much a sunshine and positive human being to give up on Max yet. He holds the last straw that is March, his home race, seeing Max again.   
Still – he fumbles with his phone for hours every day, ruffles his hair until he’s more resemblance with a scarecrow than a human being and wakes up every night with either sweaty hands and galloping heartbeat or an utterly useless hard-on and dark moan. 

 

The second he arrives for the winter testing in Barcelona Daniel is exhausted, jittery and eaten up by frustration – and that after the holidays. The weather is shit, cold and windy and that somehow makes Daniel smile in bitter irony and sour self-content.  
He searches for Max, of course, he searches for Max just to hear from Simon that the Dutchman won’t be here until Thursday. Daniel feels like throwing up.   
He retreats to his driver’s room and fiddles for his phone – the phone he didn’t lay aside for whole twenty minutes during the winter break, always on edge, staring at it, hypnotizing it to do something, fuck, anything. Any sign from Max. Just to be disappointed again and again.   
Naturally the screen is black now, as well, until Daniel scrolls through his contact list and calls Max, his teeth gritted and heartbeat pounding in his ears. He has no idea what to tell Max, what to say to him and it doesn’t matter. He reaches the mailbox and Daniel throws the phone against the wall with a gut wrenching and desperate scream. Plastic and glass splinter and bounce off from the concrete wall like ricochets, debris of his hopes and wishes and longing. 

 

It’s not until right before the Australian Grand Prix that Daniel gets a hold of Max in the garage. The second he sees him, his heart drops to his ankles and Daniel freezes to place. Michael frowns at him, lifts his headphones and cocks his head, but Daniel just shakes his head.  
“Give me a sec.” he says and makes his way over to the guy who broke his heart. Max looks good, calm and determined while thoroughly checking his results from the first practice session.  
He sees Verstappen Senior and Marko standing nearby and talking to Max and huffs. Max nods dutifully at his father’s words before Daniel cuts in.   
“Excuse me. Max, can we talk for a second?”  
Daniel hates how nonchalantly Max looks at him, before fucking turning to the screen again.   
“It’s not wise to allow any distraction that shortly before an important race.” says Marko and Daniel loses it.  
“Firstly, it’s Max’s decision, don’t talk like he’s not even here, God dammit. Secondly, it’ll just be minute and it’s important. To me.”  
Daniel curses at how long it takes Max to move and come with him, how reluctant his nod, how indifferent the look in his eyes.   
He doesn’t say a word until they reach Max’s driver’s room. Daniel deliberately grants him the home advantage.   
The second the door falls shut all the anger slips from Daniel and he pulls Max into a tight hug.  
“Jesus, Max, where have you been?”  
“What do you mean?” There lies true irritation in Max’s eyes and Daniel mirrors it instantly, blatantly staring into bright blue eyes that reveal nothing. Not even rejection or resentment, just blank nothingness.  
“What? It’s been months since we saw each other!”  
“Sorry, I was quite busy.”   
Daniel searches for so much in the oceanic depths and finds nothing to cling to, no anchor, no shore, not even a buoy. He swallows salty tears while drowning. He wanted to say so much, suck in every bit of Max he could finally get a hand on and suddenly all he can think about is one question – blaring and screeching and drowning all other thoughts.   
“What am I to you, Max?”   
Max stares at Daniel, withdrawn. He licks his lips and shrugs.  
“I’m sorry. I just need time. I need to sort this, us, out. I need to think about the risk we’re taking here.”  
“Risk?” Daniel echoes with a frown appearing on his forehead. “Max, as long as we’re cautious, nothing’s going to happen, no one will know. I promise.”  
Max shakes his head frantically.  
“You’re my direct rival, my uppermost enemy. You and I, we have the same car, losing to you is worse than losing to Vettel or Hamilton.”  
Daniel opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. He feels Max drifting away from him so violently he feels nauseous. He simply can’t believe how Max can possibly talk about racing – now.   
“But, Max, we know that. We can handle that.”  
“Can we? Didn’t you hate me last season for getting good results while you couldn’t?”   
“I didn’t hate you. I could never hate you, Max. Fuck, I missed you so much!”  
So he takes a step towards Max, cups his face and presses his lips against the young Dutchman’s – who doesn’t yield for a second, but goes completely rigid and shoves Daniel away from him.  
“Not before a race. You know, we shouldn’t.”   
Daniel grimaces, wipes his mouth and huffs at Max’s stern eyes.   
“Jesus fucking Christ, Max. Look at you. What the hell happened to you during the winter break?!”  
“Nothing. Honestly. Can we talk later, please?”   
And Max takes a step towards him and lays a cool palm on his upper arm.   
“I’m sorry. I’ll come to you later.”  
There is a little, hesitant kiss on his cheek and the sound of the door being closed.   
Daniel looks at the opal glass door and sees Max’s back for a moment before his teammate turns left and his blurred body disappears behind Daniel’s hands when he suppresses a sob. 

Of course Max doesn’t look for Daniel later and Daniel doesn’t expect him to – not anymore.

 

 

What started with a crash in Hungary, an annoyed Australian and an apologetic Dutchman, comes to an end in with a crash in Baku, an irretrievable Australian and an infuriated Dutchman.  
Daniel felt his front wing being sucked under the rear end of Max’s RB14, the exact moment he made that second move under braking and still Daniel can’t help the self-satisfaction from raising its head. At least Max has got to fucking talk to him now.   
He really tries to talk himself into believing that he didn’t crash into Max because he missed him, because the Dutchman hadn’t talked to him once since that not even worth mentioning encounter in Australia.   
He bites back the curse before getting out of his car and letting the stewards do their job.   
He can’t shake the feeling that he missed something. Something lingering around Max’s air that wasn’t related to anything that happened on track.  
He reckons, that Max would find him now at least. He says what he has to say to the media and he truly is sorry for ruining the weekend for the team. He himself can’t even remember having a good weekend for himself. But all he truly longs for is Max, Max, who finds him later that night in the elegant hotel room, raps at his door, dark and demanding, as is everything around Max.   
Daniel lies still for a another second just to realise that Max can’t enter the room on his own, the spare key Daniel normally hands to Max immediately after checking into a hotel rests in the night stand, unused.   
So he gets up, opens the door and is met by permafrost eyes. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”   
Max rumbles into the room like a thunderstorm, pressing Daniel against the next wall. Max smells of fuel, sweat and pure wrath, when he pushes Daniel back again and pins him against the cold surface with an elbow painfully pressed against his throat.  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Quit bullshitting me, you crashed into me!”  
“You changed lanes under braking. You broke the rule that exists solely because of you, Verstappen.”  
Daniel meets his stormy eyes and instantly startles. There is so much anger boiling up in Max that Daniel shakes his head at the pure sight of it. He sees Max’s eyes darting at his lips and shakes his head more violently.   
“No, no, Max. No. Not now.”  
But Max grinds against him, stealing a kiss from his parted lips. The sudden affection catches Daniel completely off guard. Blood rushes through his veins like lava, he’s lulled in by Max’s scent and aftershave. Blond stubble tickles his neck, as Max bites his earlobe and Daniel’s eyes flutter shut, as Max’s fingernails scrape over the sensitive skin of his lower back. God, he’s waited so long for this to happen.  
“Come on, you want it.”   
As if to underline his statement he presses his knee against Daniel’s crotch, draws a moan from the Aussie. It’s all too much. It’s too violent, too forced. But still –   
“I can’t do this. Not like that.”   
Max is so immensely hot and heavy against his body, all sturdy muscles and post-race adrenaline. But Daniel can’t, so he shoves Max backwards, making the Dutchman stumble.   
“I can’t handle you like this. Every time you leave you’re so full of anger and pain and when you come back I have to be prepared for another version of you. The angry, the stern, the sweet. I can’t do this. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”  
Max stands in the middle of the room, arms dropped to his sides, rendered useless. Daniel realises he’s teared down the wall again. Max looks at him with indescribable darkness and storms in his eyes. He pulls the blue shirt over his head and spreads his arms.   
“Okay, how do you want me then? I treated you like shit, so come on and take it out on me.”  
“No, Max. That’s not what I want.”   
Daniel takes a step in his direction, voice hoarse and pained. Max’s fingers falter while fiddling with the belt around his slim waist. Daniel can’t help himself but search for wounds and bruises on Max’s skin – and can’t bite back the relieved sigh when his eyes meet nothing but clean and unscathed skin.   
“Jesus, I’m not going to hurt you, Max. I want to talk to you – with you. You didn’t answer my question weeks ago, Max. What am I to you? And please don’t tell me I’m your teammate or I’ll…”  
“What? Punch me?” An ugly grin distorts Max’s face. An almost unbearable contrast to his pale and attractive upper body and arms. “You know very well, I’m used to that. But please, if it helps you.”  
Daniel opens his mouth and nothing comes out. His mind goes completely numb, there is nothing, he could possibly say. He turns around, his chest rapidly rising and falling, before turning back to Max and blinking away tears.  
“Stop, Max. Please. Whatever you’re doing, I’m begging you to stop.”  
“You’re my rival, Daniel, the most dangerous of all. I love beating you, I love competing with you. I really do. But I hate it, when you win.”  
“What?”   
Max could have punched him in the face, it would have hurt the same.   
“I hate you, every time you beat my time or get the better strategy or end up with better results than me. And about the rest.” Max shrugs in a way that doesn’t fall far from nonchalantly and Daniel’s heart breaks. He realises there is no getting through to Max whatsoever. Something has happened during the winter months, something terrible and Daniel can’t reach Max over the all-consuming gorging rift between them.  
“I like fucking you. I like being fucked by you. There is no denying in us being drawn to each other. But I can’t distinguish between competing with you on track and competing with you in bed. And I hate losing. I presume it’s the same for you.”  
No, I love you, is what Daniel wants to scream from the top of his lungs. “I don’t know.” is what Daniel mutters. He just wishes, Max would shut up.  
“And I think, I do love you sometimes. In this post race or post sex bliss. But it’s not enough to risk everything I’ve worked for so hard all my life. You’re not worth risking everything I’ve worked for so hard all my life.”  
Daniel tries so hard to work the sob back down his throat and swallows frantically while blinking feverishly to hold back tears.   
Silence hovers between them. Daniel can’t bring himself to look at Max.   
“I fired my father.”

Daniel’s head snaps up and he stares into Max’s bright eyes, a brittle smile spreading on his lips.   
“You were right. I’m a far better driver than he’s ever been. I don’t need him.” The arrogance in Max’s shrug makes Daniel blink rapidly. “He’ll still be on the race track during races, but simply as my parent, not my mentor or supervisor or anything.”  
“Does he…” Daniel can’t bring himself to finish the question but a small thread of their former so strong mental bound seems to be still intact, because Max gets what Daniel’s implying and shakes his head.  
“No, he hasn’t laid a hand at me for months. I made sure of that. Thank you.”  
And there is pure and honest gratitude in the depths of Max’s blue eyes, specks of affection and more and –   
“What now?”  
Daniel’s voice is almost inaudible but if he spoke up he’d instantly break apart.   
“Nothing. We do our jobs. Without crashing into each other again if possible.”  
… but if it would be to happen again, I’d crush you to dust, risk your life and kill you if necessary without a touch of mercy or sympathy – or love.   
“And the rest?”  
Daniel hates how voiceless he is, how silent and shy. It’s what Max has done and is still doing to him.   
“I’m afraid that is it.”  
“Are you breaking up with me?!”  
“I never assumed there was anything to break up.”  
And Max slips into his shirt again and cocks his head at Daniel. Daniel, who is rendered to a useless, desperate picture of misery, standing in the middle of the room, with gaping mouth and eyes widened. There is blackness in his eyes but it’s lukewarm at best, not in the slightest comparable with the sunshine and heat Daniel radiated back in their time in Oz. Just cold, dark onyxes.   
“You don’t mean that…”  
And that’s when there is finally a movement in Max’s eyes. He quickly turns away but Daniel sees the pain and doubt. Daniel gathers all his courage and takes the risk of late braking before entering a deadly headpin turn. He takes Max’s hands in his, like he did last summer the morning he stopped Max from leaving. It feels like a lifetime ago now. Max closes his eyes, his hand is dry and warm as always.  
“Please, Max. Look at me.”  
Max shakes his head.   
“Who is forcing you to tell me this? Who’s manipulating you?”   
Max bites his lower lip until it bleeds, when he feels Daniel’s curls on his forehead. A single tear drops onto the rose tattoo on Daniel’s hand.   
“Fuck.”   
With that Max tears himself away from Daniel and Daniel watches through a curtain of tears as the door falls shut behind Max.

 

Max closes his eyes in the hallway, listens to Daniel’s frantic sob and bites the inside of his cheek. It was necessary. Daniel will realise that, too. Their careers are too important, especially Max’s. Christian and Helmut have talked to him, they will support him in getting his first title with Red Bull, no matter what the cost. Happiness can wait.   
Max wipes a tear of his face and makes his way back to who the hell knows where he came from.   
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I somehow feel the need to apologize for this… so, sorry! 
> 
> Bring on the hate, guys, it's well deserved xD


	8. Or: "I was lightning before the thunder!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one about the way these things always end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks,
> 
> Thank you for making it to this point in the story!  
> Here comes the last and final chapter of this rollercoaster piece of scribble.  
> Special thanks of course to extremesoft, whose messages always make me sprint to the keyboard and keep on writing! And to RosaNautica for a really motivating and praising comment! 
> 
> Thanks for joining me to this very last chapter, have fun (?)

_“I believe in you._  
_I will stand in the eye of the storm._  
_It’s not over!”_

 

“Next and last question for Daniel Ricciardo. What do you think about the team order at Mercedes to have a bias towards Lewis Hamilton? Do you think that Red Bull may make a similar decision towards Max Verstappen?”  
“Huh, first of all, that’s a question you should ask Valterri. With all due respect, I’m not a part of the Mercedes stable, so I don’t have a say in their decisions regarding their drivers. Regarding the situation between Max and me, well… Um, my car has had some issues so far, so I’m not really able to compete right now.”  
“You wouldn’t be anyway, Dan, haha.”  
“Max’s commentary from offstage, ladies and gentlemen. Ahm, so, yeah, the team prefers to give the better driver the better strategy. That’s not mean or unfair, it’s logical. I wouldn’t use the term bias, because that’s a bit harsh.”  
“Are you afraid of competing with Max Verstappen was the second question.”  
“How can I compete with a shi-… problematic car? So far the races have been mediocre for me, while Max has shown some good moves already. The season’s just started, there’s a lot of ground to cover and nothing’s set into stone.”  
“Max Verstappen, what do you think about your team mate’s statement?”  
“It’s always good to have a humble team mate, you know. One that knows his place and doesn’t give up easily. I don’t know about Daniel’s plans, but I want to compete with the big teams this years and not him, I’m out of his league already with four podiums. He just needs to get his car finally working.”  
“Alright, gentlemen, thank you for your time. Press conference is closed.” 

 

“Christian, do you have a minute?”  
“Oh, Daniel, long time, no see. What can I do for you? Please, have a seat.”  
“Thank you. It’s about the extension of my contract. Ahm, this is kind of hard to explain, to be honest.”  
“Don’t worry, Dan, just spit it out, whatever it is.”  
“Alrighty. As you know, my season is absolutely shit. And ahm, I don’t see any progress whatsoever, at the moment. The car is, let’s put it frankly, a disaster and I can’t help thinking that Red Bull Racing as a whole doesn’t back me up as it used to do. Especially with Max’s car being so much better and him getting better strategies and all that.”  
“Okay. So, just let me try to understand you, Dan. Am I right in believing you’re feeling left out or disadvantaged?”  
“Partly, I mean, the car is one thing. Things can go wrong, an engine can fail and all that, that’s not what I mean. It’s just constantly playing the second fiddle for the team, that’s slowly… how can I put that… making me feel less at home here.”  
“Do you want to leave Red Bull Racing?”  
“I would at least like to look into different offers from other teams, yeah.”  
“Are there any competing and specific offers yet?”  
“No, not yet. I’ll let you know, as soon I made a decision. You’ll hear from me by the summer break at the latest”  
“You have every right to make a decision for yourself. Talk to Max, he won’t like that news. I thought you two get along quite nicely?”  
“Yeah, me too. Never mind. This has nothing to do with Max. I just feel… I don’t know. Stuck. I’ll clear my head and be back with some reliable offers.”  
“Alright then. Make up your mind. I fully understand that for it really has been a tough season so far. But it would be a pity losing you, Daniel. It really would be.”  
“Thanks, Christian.”

 

“Hey, reckoned, I’d find you out here. How are you, buddy?”  
“I… I… I have no clue, mom. I don’t know what to think about him anymore.”  
“You fought again, haven’t you? In Austria?”  
“God, I wish I fought with him! I wish, he would even look at me. He waves me off, whenever I try to talk to him. It’s so infuriating.”  
“Do you think, Max is being manipulated that badly? I mean… you were so close.”  
“I fucking love him, mom. I really do, but… I can’t keep doing that. It’s destroying me.”  
“I know, buddy. I’ve watched you suffer for too long already.”  
“All I’m saying is, I’m turning thirty next year. If everything goes as planned and I don’t hurt myself severely, sorry, I know you hate that thought… then I’ve got maybe five or six years left in F1.”  
“You can’t chase Max and the world title simultaneously, right?”  
“God, I’m at the point where I would choose Max. Seriously, mom, I’d choose Max. But he’s so aggressive and unbearable right now. He does everything in his power to make me hate him. I really think he hates me...”  
“I think, you two are so different in every possible way. Maybe you’re just not meant to be. And believe me, Daniel, that thought hurts me so much. You’re my son, my sun and pride. Your happiness means the world to me. I’m just not sure whether Max is a part of said happiness. There is so much negativity and pain around that guy. Jeepers, Daniel, I’m sorry for interfering so much. I want you to be happy, buddy, I love you so much.”  
“Love you, too, mom. I’m going for a run, alright? I just need to move and clear my head.”  
“Sure, where are you heading to?”  
“Upward. Somewhere upward, definitely.”

 

 

“Max, sorry for disturbing, but do you have a second?”  
“Oh, hi, Daniel. No, sorry, my dad’s here. Is it important?”  
“Kind of, but… never mind.”  
“Alright, see you later.”  
“Yeah, sure...”

 

“Mr. Ricciardo, bienvenue à Paris. How was your flight?”  
“Merci beaucoup, Cyril. Please, call me Daniel, we settled that during the last meeting, haven’t we? Ahm, yeah, I guess I brought good weather with me.”  
“You certainly have, the last days have been awful. Let’s hope the weather in Barcelona will be better this year. To be honest, we’re so glad to have you here with us.”  
“Happy to be here. It was time for a change, a new challenge.”  
“The next challenge will certainly follow. Please, take a seat. We worked out the final version of the contract. We just need your signature for it to be cut and dried. Right after that I’ll introduce you to your new team mate.”  
“Alrighty, perfect. Where’s the pen?” 

 

“Are you sure, you want it to be “Free” and not “Freedom”, mate?”  
“Yeah, I am. Freedom is too transcendental. It’s this goal and state of mind, I guess. It’s not really tangible, you know? I want it to be shorter, a constant reminder of my decisions.”  
“Alright, fair enough. Black ink? Around this area?”  
“Yeah, exactly. On my sleeve here. I already chose a writing style.”  
“Looks good. Not too convoluted, not too straight. A friend’s handwriting?”  
“Sort of. It’s from a note he left me once at work. Wanted to give me an earworm from ”free falling”, you know? That was kind of our thing back then.”  
“Alright, mate. I’m set up. Do you need something for the pain?”  
“Haha, no thanks, I’m used to that.”

 

_“It’s thunder and it’s lightning_  
_and it’s all things too frightening_  
_I could barely see outside.”_

 

It’s not Max, realises Daniel, as he sees him standing in front of the huge window. He doesn’t recognize his eyes and it feels like meeting a stranger.  
He feels the weight of the piece of paper in his jeans pocket and slowly closes the door.  
“Max?”  
He turns around and Daniel’s shoulders instantly drop.  
“Long time, no see.”  
“I’ve been very busy the last weeks.”  
“I’ve missed you.” It sounds lame and washed-out, but it’s still true. To Daniel, at least.  
Daniel doesn’t dare to come closer. He clenches his fists at the sight of Max’s shrug.  
“How was your summer break?”  
Horrible, thinks Daniel, “it was alright. It’s always nice being back at home. You could have visited me, you know? Like last year?”  
Fuck, it was a year ago, that Max had tilted back his head into the bright sunlight and they’ve been laying at the beach, electricity crackling in the air between them. Now Max is callous and unapproachable.  
“We shouldn’t have done this.” replies Max coldly. “It was a mistake. I should never have come to Australia in the first place.” The indifference and the undertone of refusal make Daniel swallow tears.  
“Right.” He murmurs under his breath, but Max isn’t done thrusting the piercing daggers of ice into his heart and twisting them.  
“Whatever happened between us was a mistake, too, of course. We’re rivals, being fascinated with each other is quite common. We talked about this before.”  
No, you told me some bullshit you yourself don’t believe in, Daniel wants to snap, but stays silent. He can’t do that to Max.  
“We’re very close to one another. It’s what the job does, especially with all the activities, Red Bull plans all the time. But being professionals must be our prime directive. We need to stay focused.”  
Daniel huffs in sarcasm and pain.  
“Jesus, it’s like talking to Marko.”  
“Helmut has nothing to with it.”  
“If only that was true, if only you weren’t so brainwashed, Max. Look at you, you’re acting like a robot, a perfect soldier in the media-hyped war this fucking sport is so often exaggerated to.”  
“Is that why you’re working overtime in the gossip factory about you changing teams, Dan?” Max has never called Daniel Dan in his life before and if Daniel was biting back tears earlier he know fights for his life against a boiling up sob. “Are you scared of competing and most likely losing against me?”  
Yes, is what Daniel thinks, “No.” is what he says.  
He remembers Oz, he remembers Max grinning widely at him and feeding apples to his horse. He remembers his resounding dark laughter while playing football with Michelle. He remembers his soft smirk and heated cheeks after they parted in the kitchen. He remembers his damp hair and reddened lips, fingers buried in white sheets. Daniel looks at Max and realises that Max forgot about all that.  
“What happened to you?” Daniel asks and his voice is so full of desperation and longing. He takes a step towards Max, Max who just watches and stays completely still.  
“What’s going on inside your head, Max?” his voice trembles and he hates himself for it. His hands are icy cold.  
“Nothing. I’m here to do my job, as you should, too, by the way. We’re here to drive a race. “  
“I don’t fucking care about that stupid race!”  
He promised himself to not get angry, to not let Max see how hurt he really is. He just wanted to say goodbye, god dammit. But he can’t. He sees the coldness and calmness in Max contrasting his own heated pain and burning longing and can’t.  
“Fuck, Max, what we had was so beautiful, so gorgeous. Do you remember that? I loved having you in Oz, I loved seeing you happy and waking up knowing that I had an entire day with you. I loved…”  
His voice falters like a house of cards blown down by a brisk and bitter cold wind, when Max huffs.  
“You loved me? Seriously, Daniel? Is this some kind of mind game you’re trying to play on me? To make me lose my focus before my home race? That’s low, even for you.”  
Daniel feels tears pooling in his eyes and wipes his face.  
“You can stop, you know? You can stop treating me like shit and doing everything you can in order to make me hate you.”  
“Why? Because it will never work and you’ll always be after me?”  
“No. Because it worked. You’re a thunderstorm, Verstappen, and I’m not going to drown in you. You made your decision to hate me for whatever reason. And I respect that. I made my own decision, you know.”  
Daniel unfolds the piece of paper he clenched in his hand and nonchalantly throws it onto the table surface.  
Max’s eyes flicker at the sight of the company logo.  
That’s the only reaction he’s able to draw from Max, the man he went through hell and back for.  
Max looks at him, open, empty, callously.  
The eyes that thawed to deep and warm droplets of water are frozen back to solid piercing ice.  
“I see.” is all Max has to say, his jaw clenched and Daniel huffs in pain. He bites the inside of cheek so hard he tastes blood on his tongue.  
“Is that all? Is that all you’ve got to say to me, Max?”  
Max’s eyes stay fixed on Daniel’s contract with Renault, the proof of how severely he’s hurt him and the rift that separated them since the beginning of the season cracks open and tears them apart completely.  
“I don’t see a point in talking about this. As you said, we made our decisions.”

Daniel freezes.  
He’s not even sure what he’s expected of Max before entering the room, anything, a tantrum, a meltdown, a fight. But not this cold and stern indifference.  
He bites back every incisive remark that comes to his mind. Even after everything that Max has done to him he can’t bring himself to hurt him – not really. So he leaves.  
Without another word Daniel turns around and leaves the room and Max behind – Max who dies inside as he realizes he managed to drive Daniel away. For good this time.  
Outside in the empty and silent hallway, Daniel covers his mouth with both icy cold hands desperately trying to stop himself from screaming in agony. His shoulders tremble like leafs in a storm.  
Max turns around to the window again and shuts his eyes, feeling bitter anger and hot self-hatred – but keeping his head down and elbows out.  
He circled the sun, Daniel, for too long and he saved himself from burning to ashes. But at what costs?  
He sees the race track below, drenched in sun and glimmering in heat and squints his eyes against the scorching light that warms his face. 

_“And you, you’ll fight another storm._  
_I won’t be there to keep you warm._  
_I won’t be there to keep you warm, no more.”_

 

Max is thunder and lightning, moulded by a stern father and his own unbending pride and stormy personality. He always seemed cool and unapproachable, but lately he’s more and more burning with unapologetic rivalry and hot cruelty on track.  
Daniel is warmth and sunshine, loved and loving. But lately he’s more and more cold and callous towards what happens on track.  
They say opposites attract but in this case two men meant for each other ended up with burns and frostbites on their souls and hearts.  
They say opposites attract but thunder storms and the sun simply don’t match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So
> 
> That’s it, I guess!  
> Thank you so much for your endurance, patience and motivating reviews, you guys rule!  
> It's really been a pleasure :D 
> 
> The songs mentioned here are in chronological order:
> 
> “Eye of the storm” by X Ambassadors  
> “It’s thunder and it’s lightning” by We were promised jetpacks.  
> “Fade away” by Tom Walker
> 
> Read you soon!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Overnight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818047) by [restofourtimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/restofourtimes/pseuds/restofourtimes)




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